


Timeless

by Crimson1



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Leonard Snart, First Time, M/M, Time Travel Fix-It, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-02-12 17:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 59,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson1/pseuds/Crimson1
Summary: A voice in the Speed Force reaches Barry in his Timeless state to convince him to come home. Barry misses that voice once he’s back in real-time, but he has to set things right and save as many lives as he can.While that means Iris will be with Eddie instead of him, he can’t mourn her. She’ll always be dear to him, but he wants her to be happy above all, and he has seen every timeline and knows the life and love he will get to have instead. He just needs to keep fighting to finish his calculations in time to defeat Eobard and return to his loved ones for good.Thankfully, a certain thief brings clarity like no one else can.AU season 1 with Barry from pre-season 4.1 returning from the Speed Force to the moment he woke up from his original coma.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This took WORK, folks, but I'm really excited for where I plan to take it, how things will progress, and what those symbols mean in my version of canon. 
> 
> I put dubious consent because when Barry and Len start getting more heated, there will always be that question in Len if Barry is really WITH him, present in the moment and capable of consent, or if he's just crazy and Len's taking advantage. I hope to handle that well though and make that very emotional and rewarding overall. 
> 
> It'll be an angsty ride, but interesting to write, and allow me to explore old episodes from season 1 with an overall fix-it for pretty much everything from Eddie to Len to Ronnie to...geesh, everything, with a ColdFlash happy ending. 
> 
> I can promise you this WILL NOT be a rehash. I don't like doing that. We'll nod at canon, interact with those characters, but there won't be any scenes plucked right from the show, only pertinent dialogue. This is going to be a very different season 1, since Wally will be the hero, while Barry gives little nudges to save as many lives as he can. And also clings to Len because Len makes him feel better and is nice to snuggle. 
> 
> Stay tuned!

_And after he's been hooked I'll play the one that's on his heart_

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Oh…

What a beautiful thing forever was, but lonely, Barry discovered, because with eternity stretching out around him, powered inexplicably by his own unstoppable _Force_ , he couldn’t return home, not without becoming mortal again. All he had were the voices and an endless loop of memories from before and yet to come.

_Run, Barry, run!_

It wasn’t Hell. The Speed Force hadn’t lied— _Nora_ , she hadn’t lied. It was harmony, pure and endless, a sense of wholeness and oneness with everything and nothing. What should have been overwhelming came easily because he _was_ Time and Space and Energy all his own.

Timeless.

_Every hour, every minute_

The prison he’d worked so hard to create for Savitar dismantled like disintegrating paper when he willed it to reunite with the power it was born from— _him_. It was all him. He was—

He _was_.

_Barry_

The voices weren’t always in synch. One had a way of standing out, teasing specific memories to the surface as if to stir in him the will to be something else. With such power at his fingertips, he could have tapped the cosmos and changed the very nature of creation. But there was warmth here, cocooning him close, like it didn’t want him to leave.

Echoing through Time and every dimension, it wanted more—more breadth, more bearers. He knew without trying that in its embrace he touched every part of reality, every moment of probability, containing the knowledge of every place and Time that ever was or would be.

How could he be lonely when he was so _full_?

 _Barry got into a fight._  
_Oh, yeah?_  
_And he won._  
_Ah, way to go, slugger. Oh, and uh, no more fighting._

The voice again, singular and unique from the others, contradicted the memory.

_Don’t listen. Fight, Barry!_

He…he had to keep fighting. He didn’t belong here. The lightning hadn’t opened his eyes, _he’d_ opened something else. He was the conduit, but his creation, like all children, wanted freedom without losing the comforting touch of home.

The Speed Force didn’t need him, it merely wanted, yearned like consciousness, like he yearned, for something more. But in the end, it could only bend to his will, however it may howl.

_No strings on me_

It was time to go home, but it wouldn’t be easy once he left, a slog through quicksand drowning in the flood. _Then_ he would know Hell, because the full scale of power would overwhelm him finally, and he might never crawl his way back to the surface.

Nora. Henry. Eddie…and Ronnie. Snart.

_You can call me Leo_

No.

_Len_

The list was longer, so long it wounded Barry, but here, he could see them all as they were, at their greatest and at their downfalls. He saw every memory that was and every future that could have been. And sometimes that voice standing out from the others seemed _with him_ instead of a distant echo, like the disconnect between dimension and Time.

He wished there was a way to save everyone, but there would still be losses, and one great loss he couldn’t risk changing, because he knew where toying with his mother's death led.

But maybe he could save the rest and try again.

_Don't like the future, Flash? Change it!_

 

XXXXX

 

Barry’s eyes flew open with a shock to his newly solid system, and a small conscious part of him saw his friends, his dear beloved friends who he was so happy to see again, and he smiled—

Before the din, connected still to the endless _everything_ , but displaced now and unable to sift out the chaos, _roared_.

 

XXXXX

 

“Pulse 120, pupils equally reactive to light.”

“Hey there, buddy,” Cisco tried to speak over Caitlin, because techy talk was not what their mutant potato needed to wake up to. “Everything's okay. You're at STAR Labs. I told you he liked this song,” he commented about the loop of “Poker Face” still playing over the speakers.

“Not now, Cisco. Mr. Allen, how are you feeling?” She put her penlight away and spoke seriously at the blinking hazel eyes and surprising smile looking up at them.

“Call him Barry, geez,” Cisco leaned over the man in similar fashion to get a good look, because a small part of him had feared he’d never get to meet the guy who he only really knew through his family, some odd friends in Starling, and the dirt he was able to uncover from Facebook and personnel files. “We’ve only been his babysitters for _months_. Right, Barry? Or is it Bart? Your family calls you Barry, but man, I could totally go with Bart if you prefer that, just not Bartholomew, coz you deserve better.”

“ _Cisco_ ,” Caitlin said with more urgency, tilting Barry’s head this way and that to get a reaction that seemed to simply not come as he kept _smiling_ at them. “Barry, can you hear me?”

He smiled wider for a brief, blinding moment, then looked off distantly. “I’m the fastest man alive.”

“Okay.” Cisco shot Caitlin a confused glance. “Maybe not something to put on your dating profile.”

“You know I'm not much of a singer,” Barry went on as he attempted to sit up, still covered in electrodes and his IV, with breathing tubes wrapped around his head, shirtless in just the sweatpants they changed out regularly when they washed him.

“Also interesting,” Cisco said, while Caitlin pressed a hand to his chest to keep him from getting up too quickly, gently removing everything connected to him to prevent him from getting tangled in the wires. “Not judging or anything.”

“Barry,” meanwhile Caitlin kept trying to get his attention, “do you understand what we’re saying? Do you know what happened to you? You were struck by lightning. You’ve been in a coma for nine months. We’re at STAR Labs.”

Barry just blinked at her, then at Cisco, before the smile fell to something serious and angry. “No, you won't. You’re never getting out of here. And you're never going to hurt anybody ever again. I have everything back that you took away from me. I have everything Zoom took. I'm finally free. I'm home.” He struggled to sit up, and Caitlin had to make a final lurch to yank out the catheter for his IV so he wouldn’t tear it out himself.

“Barry!”

“Zoom?” Cisco questioned, trying to help Caitlin hold him to the bed, “that would make a great superhero name,” but Barry was larger than them and, just like they’d known from months watching his test results, he showed no sign of muscle atrophy.

“We are not going to hurt you!” Caitlin tried again.

Barry ignored them and moved for the nearest desk, grabbing a marker and glancing around like he knew what he was looking for but couldn’t remember where it was. When he spotted their translucent whiteboard, he rolled it closer to the middle of the room and started drawing—Cisco had no idea what, but they were strange symbols, mostly circular with tiny inconsistencies like some alien language.

“So imagine there are multiple versions of Earth... One where the Nazis won World War II... One where President Kennedy wasn't assassinated...”

“You need to lie down,” Caitlin took hold of the arm with the marker, but he shook her off and kept on doodling, more and more of those same odd symbols.

“A world where the Nazis won is a serious nightmare,” Cisco said, holding back since forcing Barry to listen didn’t seem to work.

“Been there,” Barry turned to him with sudden focus. “It sucks.”

“Uhh…”

“Welcome back, Mr. Allen,” Dr. Wells chose that moment to roll into the cortex, frowning with a knit brow when he saw the state of Barry and what he was doing.

Barry spun to look at him, completely unfazed. “That's what the other Wells said.”

“Excuse me?”

“Now that we've established that we're all uber-nerds,” Barry returned to the whiteboard, drawing away as if he were crafting something supremely important, “what are we gonna do about…a-about…” then it was like a glitch in the system, a shift and cringe of pain that tore across his face, almost causing him to drop the marker, but instead he pressed his hands to either side of his head, “…about…the stars? They’re singing. _Screaming_. Can’t you hear them screaming? Dreaming, scheming… Man, I wish I'd taken a language in high school,” he said with shocking clarity again, and went right back to his symbols.

Caitlin shrugged helplessly, while Wells looked on stern in his disappointment.

All Cisco could think was—this boy ain’t right.

 

XXXXX

 

Something had gone horribly wrong, but every calculation, every probable outcome had been accounted for. Yet Barry hadn’t come out of his lightning strike running on all cylinders.

What mattered more was whether he’d recover, and regardless of that, if he still had his powers and if it could be harnessed the way Eobard needed.

It bothered him, however, that Barry seemed so disjointed even if he could still be used to get home. Revenge wouldn’t be as sweet if _The Flash_ wasn’t in his right mind to suffer through it.

“Run the tests,” he told Caitlin.

“Which tests?”

“Every test you can think of.”

She and Cisco snapped to attention, and as a unified front, they pried Barry from the whiteboard more forcefully, Caitlin carefully peeling the marker from his fingers.

“You can get back to your drawings later, okay?”

“Come on, man, we’re gonna lie back down now.”

“You just need rest, and we’ll get a look at all your moving parts to make sure you’re healthy.”

“Isn't that like saying I'm having a conversation with gravity,” Barry said, utter nonsense again, as far as Eobard could tell, but at least he was accommodating to being moved, “or light or—”

“Just relax, Barry,” Caitlin said.

Barry nodded as though he understood, allowing them to guide him to the bed, but the words that left him were, “No, Mom, I'm fine, but everything else has changed, and I have to find out why.”

Interesting. As if he was living every moment at once, or at least individual moments in the wrong order. A scattered puzzle box, with half the pieces upside down.

“Figure out what’s going on,” he told the others, eager to solve this one way or another, since his only way home depended on The Flash after over a decade of diligence. “We owe his family that much.”

 

XXXXX

 

These were not the circumstances Caitlin had envisioned for calling the Wests about their family member finally waking up. Someone deserved good news after everything the Particle Accelerator had cost them, but even now that Barry was awake, he was still lost to those that loved him.

She’d prepared Joe and Iris as best she could for when they’d arrive, but it would likely be far harder than they anticipated seeing him this way, like a shell of the man they knew.

“His neurotransmitters are functioning at five times the normal speed,” she explained to Cisco and Wells after their initial round of tests, some they were still waiting on, but for the moment, they’d allowed Barry to return to the whiteboard, which he was covering in symbols impressively fast.

“He’s even healthier than his muscle regeneration showed us,” Wells said.

“Exactly.”

“Then what’s wrong with him?” Cisco asked.

“I have two theories. One is that he's suffering from a form of schizophasia.”

“Assigning the wrong definitions to the words he’s using,” Wells said.

“Meaning, to him, all that crazy talk makes sense? Too bad we don't have a translator.” Cisco snapped his fingers with sudden purpose as he hopped off the desk.

“It’s _not_ schizophasia,” Wells shot down.

“How can you be sure?” Caitlin asked.

“Because. He’s not talking to us, sometimes we just happen to be in his line of sight. However, the symbols might be worth decrypting,” he nodded at Cisco.

“I can work on an algorithm, see if anything pops up from known languages, numbers, codes.”

“Do it. You said you had two theories, Dr. Snow?”

“Without obvious brain damage, it could be neurological. Nothing about his condition has been normal. Maybe he was conscious all that time he was in the coma but couldn’t wake up and remembers everything. It would have been torture, could've caused dementia. _That_ ,” she stressed toward Barry, “may be all of him that's left.” Though she hoped that wasn’t the case and that somehow the real Barry might be coaxed out again.

“Hey, Barry, buddy,” Cisco called as he moved into Barry’s view, “you good over here?”

Barry paused in his frantic scribbling but didn’t quite look at Cisco. “No thank you, I'm not hungry,” he said, clear as anything, then focused right on Cisco as he shifted to distress. “He didn't do those things. He didn't hurt my mom. I was there that night. There was a man, plan. No plan. Have to throw away the _plan_.” He smacked the butt of his palm against his temple. “I miss you, where are you, I can’t hear you anymore…”

“Yeah…I’ll see if I can figure out those symbols,” Cisco backed away as Barry returned to his drawing.

Caitlin needed to focus on getting Barry fed and clean, make sure he was taken care of physically before he saw his family, which had the potential to trigger responses they couldn’t predict. Maybe he just needed time. Maybe he just needed _them_ , and as soon as he saw Joe and Iris, he’d wake up for real. Caitlin hoped so, that he’d surprise them and snap out of it, or that maybe there _was_ some message in the symbols and what he was saying regardless of Wells’ opinion.

For now, she could only keep on, like she’d been doing these past nine months.

 

XXXXX

 

He could feel the Speed Force within Barry, ever present like static, calling out like the pull of a magnet. But not once had the boy used his powers since he woke up, not even a stray spark, which was concerning but no reason to panic yet.

Even though the Wests dropped nearly everything the moment Caitlin called them to head to the Labs, the good doctor managed to clean Barry, dress him fully in STAR Labs sweats, and set him up in a more appropriate side-wing of the Cortex where he could doodle to his heart’s content before they arrived.

When Caitlin or Cisco encouraged him to stop for one reason or another, to eat, have blood drawn, in an attempt to talk, he allowed them to pull him away, but he always returned to his work. In all Eobard’s time and experience across dimension, he'd never encountered anything like those symbols. Every time he thought he might recognize what Barry was drawing, he realized he had to start over. It was maddening. Maybe Cisco would find the answer eventually, but for now, they were at a loss.

Joe and Iris appeared soon after with an eruption of noise and frantic movement, hugging Barry in succession and talking at him so rapid-fire, even a man in full control of his faculties might have had trouble understanding them. Barry smiled through it all as if, for a moment, he recognized them, whole and clear, before he tumbled into out-of-order nonsense again.

“Barry? It’s me, Iris,” she tried, holding his face between her hands.

“I always act weird,” he said, “I feel fine.”

“You do?”

He leaned in close as if about to share some intimate secret. “Whatever you do, don't look behind you.”

Iris did, but the only thing behind her was Cisco, Caitlin, and Eobard himself. “Barry, what are you talking about? Are you okay?” she asked more plaintively.

“Did you know zombies exist in nature? There's this species of fungi that infects ants, causing the ants to attack plants that release spores, which in turn effects new hosts—”

Again and again they tried to reach him, but his words were never meant for them in _this_ moment.

The tears that followed struck a chord with Cisco and Caitlin, and soon their eyes were as damp as the Wests.

Eobard played the role of sympathetic caretaker, “Of course he can stay for as long as he needs. Our goal to give your son back to you and understand what happened to him hasn’t changed,” but he also had to be vigilant.

If Barry was experiencing multiple timelines at once, part of him could exist in a future where he knew the truth. Anyone overhearing accusations he might throw around would likely take it as nonsense, but Eobard couldn’t risk losing anyone’s trust when he was this close to his goal. He had to watch Barry carefully and decide if a moment came when he was more liability than lifeline.

The important thing was that Barry's test results showed the meta human gene and the Speed Force flowing through him, but Eobard couldn’t mention any of that or push for certain tests until Barry showed signs of his powers. In case he didn’t, or even if he did but was never able to fully control it, Eobard needed a backup plan.

His only chance for salvation without Barry was the boy’s successor.

 

XXXXX

 

“Excuse me. Mr. West?”

Wally spun about to face the voice that had startled him in the hallways of Keystone U, his eyes drawn downward to the man in the chair, but not just any man— _Harrison Wells_.

“Holy shi—uh…hey. You’re Dr. Wells.”

“I am,” Wells smiled in amusement. At least he was amused instead of annoyed. “And you are a very promising student from what I hear.”

“I am?” Wally didn’t think his grades were all that impressive lately. He’d gotten distracted from school ever since his mom started getting treatments. He worried they couldn’t afford too many more and that he might need to figure something out beyond getting another mediocre part-time job.

“You are,” Wells said. “Do you have any interest in thermodynamics, Mr. West? Theoretical physics?”

“Totally!”

“I thought as much. I don’t suppose you were in Central City for my spectacular failure last year?”

“I was there! I mean, not that it was a _failure_.” Damn, there went any chance he had at making a good first impression.

“Mr. West, I think disrupting the power of an entire city and the damage and injuries involved count as a failure,” Wells said, still smiling and patient with Wally’s flailing, “but I appreciate the attempt. You attended the event?”

“Oh…no, but I was in town. I wanted to get down there but didn’t make it in time. It was quite the show afterward,” he tried for levity since Wells didn’t seem to mind laughing at his catastrophe. For some reason, he even looked _pleased_ by Wally saying that.

“Walk with me, Mr. West. Or _accompany_ me at least,” he gestured down the hallway before shifting his chair around to wheel beside Wally.

Wally scrambled to match his pace.

“You see, I have this special case I’ve been working on, someone affected by the accelerator explosion in a profound way, and I need additional assistance from someone with talent, who can also be discreet and who wouldn’t garner too much attention by coming to STAR Labs regularly.”

“STAR Labs?” Wally had to be dreaming or he’d hit his head at some point this morning, because this sort of thing did not happen to him, not with the luck he’d had lately. “Me?”

The pleased smile on Wells’ face spread wider. “How would you feel about an internship?”

 

XXXXX

 

Barry’s peach fuzz was starting to grow in after a few days without a shave. Joe knew that another week would be enough to fill in the stubborn patches, but he wasn’t sure if he should let it grow, shave Barry himself, or risk a razor in his son's hand.

Caitlin had warned him against that. Barry was mostly calm, docile, but he would have fits of sudden fear or anger to match his words that sometimes Joe remembered from years ago, even from when Barry was a boy, and other things he didn’t understand at all.

Given Barry’s inactivity, he only needed to bathe once a week, but this time Joe had taken on the job himself. He was relieved, maybe a tiny bit hopeful when Barry started bathing _himself_ once he was in the deep industrial bathtub of the Labs’ locker room. Joe had started by shampooing Barry’s hair, but the rest he did on his own, quiet, mechanical, and when he’d finished, he lay in the dirty water, head submerged save his face and closed his eyes.

“The stars keep melting, like rain on sheet metal, loud, proud, crowd. It’s too crowded here, Iris, are you sure this party's a good idea?”

Joe cringed with a halfhearted smile. “That something I’m not supposed to know about, kiddo? Better have been during college and not high school.”

Barry looked at him, Joe sitting on the bench he’d pulled over to be near the tub, and as he sat up smiling, he said, “Dad, I promise I’ll clean my room. Can we go to the zoo tomorrow?”

The fleeting smile at being called ‘Dad’ fell away when Joe realized he didn’t remember that reference. He’d never had to beg for clean rooms from his kids. If Iris wanted to go to the zoo bad enough, she’d clean Barry’s room for him rather than risk his slow-ass throwing off her good time. Barry always made it up to her though.

Those words hadn’t been for him. “Come on, Barr. Don’t want you turning into a prune.”

Iris and Eddie arrived soon after Barry was dressed and back to his drawing. He’d moved to the walls now, covering every inch he could reach in the room they’d set aside for him.

Joe wanted to be upset that Iris had been seeing his partner behind his back for so long, but she'd confessed to the relationship after Barry woke up because she wanted Eddie's support, and the way the man stood by her like the rock she needed made it hard for Joe to feel the disapproval he’d expected.

“Hey, Barr,” Eddie said with a natural kindness and patience Joe respected in his fellow officers and wasn’t always sure he displayed enough himself these days. “Brought you Big Belly Burger today. Don’t tell Dr. Snow, huh? She’s a stickler.”

“I heard that,” Caitlin called from across the room, tight smile not quite betraying itself.

They had indeed brought several bags of Big Belly Burger for everyone.

Even only a few days were enough to reach a sort of routine, talking around Barry, always including him even if he didn’t respond or if what he responded with was unrelated and difficult to understand. Iris had tried to convince Joe to take a few days off work, but he’d refused. Better to dive into cases when he wasn’t here to keep his mind off how he’d gotten his son back like a farce, which in his darker moments felt like he’d lost him all over again.

“What’s all this with Clyde Mardon I’ve been hearing about?” Iris asked, sitting on the floor with Eddie to be near Barry while Joe sat at the table with Caitlin. “People are talking superpowers, Dad.”

“You know I ain’t talking case work with you,” Joe said. “You think I want to see something show up on that blog of yours?”

“How about _off_ the record?”

“How about you eat your fries?”

She sighed but never lost her look of determination. “Eddie…”

“And don’t even think about batting those eyelashes,” Joe broke in while Eddie froze halfway through a bite of his burger. “Eddie knows better.”

“Uh…yeah,” Eddie said thickly as he finished swallowing. “Work and personal life stays separate.”

That conviction would flounder in no time, Joe could already see it.

“He can control the weather,” Barry said, not even spinning to face them while munching happily on his meal at constant intervals, “there were robberies during freak meteoric events, when I confronted him, street enveloped in fog…”

“What’s that, Barry?” Iris asked, but no explanation came as he continued to alternate between eating and drawing without paying her or any of them much mind.

“Apologies, I didn’t realize you’d be visiting with Barry right now,” Wells’ voice cut into the room, drawing their attention to the door where a young man stood beside him, buzzing with nervous energy. “I was just showing a potential new recruit around the Labs.”

Cisco was right on their heels, looking similarly enthusiastic to have a fresh face in the building, but there was something about the boy that stopped Joe cold and he couldn’t place why.

“Hi,” the boy said, smile wide and blindingly bright, though it faltered when he scanned the room and took in the lonely figure at one of the walls. “Sorry, Dr. Wells told me about…the case and what’s been going on with Barry. He hopes I might bring an outside perspective.”

“ _Sweet_ , Big Belly Burger,” Cisco went for the extra food waiting on the table. Good thing they’d brought so much if this young man was about to join them.

They entered fully and Wells made introductions. “Our bio-engineer, Dr. Snow. And this is Detective Thawne, Detective West, and his daughter Iris.”

“West, really?” the boy chuckled as he shook Joe’s hand. “I’m _Wally_ West.”

That chill crept a little further up Joe’s spine.

“I guess it didn’t even dawn on me the coincidence,” Wells said.

“Wally?” Joe had to repeat, trying to shake off this sense of déjà vu. “Next you’ll tell me it’s short for Wallace.”

“It…is,” Wally said in confusion.

“Dad?” Iris pressed, hand gently touching his wrist as she sensed his growing unease.

“It’s nothing. Just a weird coincidence. Would have named you Wallace if you’d been a boy. Francine and I always planned to call a son that.”

The chill refused to diminish but seemed to spread to Wally, causing his face to pale. “That’s my mom’s name. Francine West.”

Everything in the room came to a stop like a moment plucked out of time. Joe’s worst fear had always been Francine coming back to haunt him someday after he’d thought for so long that lying about her death was the right call, now he couldn’t deny that this might be _her_ smile looking back at him in Wally and _his_ eyes.

“This’ll all make sense eventually,” Barry mumbled in the background, only audible because the rest of the room was silent.

 

XXXXX

 

While Eobard played dumb to the great ‘coincidence’ of having brought in West’s long-lost son, an eruption of discussion, amazement, and accusation began to unfold, mostly around Wally being tongue-tied and devastated that his mother had lied to him, and Iris being indignant and confrontational that her father had lied to _her_ , with poor Detective Thawne in the middle attempting and failing to play peacekeeper, while Caitlin and Cisco held back from the family drama unsure what to do.

Which meant Barry was left unattended with no focus whatsoever anywhere near him.

He stopped every so often to take another bite of his burger or fries, drink from his water, but he kept on at the wall, mostly silent, sometimes rambling. It was no feat at all to roll up next to him, gently touch his shoulder with a small shocking spark, and whisper.

“Run, Barry, _run_.”

 

XXXXX

 

Iris wanted to be furious at her father, to scream and rail and maybe never forgive him for thinking he had the right to lie for years about what happened to her mother. But as her anger flared hotter, easy to ignite when she’d been so angry already over Barry’s condition, she felt the hair on her neck and arms stand at attention and smelled copper in the room like being outside in a thunderstorm.

A shriek left Caitlin at the first rush of yellow light zipping past them, spinning around the room like some out of control special effect with LED lights and a wind machine. Iris would have believed it _was_ special effects if she didn’t feel the electricity and see items getting knocked over or sent flying to the opposite end of the room, including the scrawled over whiteboard.

“Barry!” she cried out, diving toward the wall where she’d last seen him—but he was gone!

“Iris!” Joe yanked her back to his side, Eddie boxing her in as well, both grabbing for their guns, unsure what this phenomenon might be but ready to protect against it.

“What is going on?” Wally called, all of them huddling closer to get out of the trail of that impossible lightning, moving fasting and faster around them—except for Wells, separate enough from the others that he couldn’t risk wheeling closer without running into the trail himself.

Then it widened, the radius getting larger, more out of control with sparks flying from the equipment it struck and, finally, Wells’ _chair_ that went airborne like everything else and threw the man to the floor.

“Dr. Wells!” Cisco cried, but none of them could move any closer to help him.

Still, _Wally_ tried, watching the streak of yellow as if calculating its movements and trying to guess when he might have a safe opening. He took a leap of faith regardless, but as time seemed to slow with his impressive bound forward, the yellow lightning and several brighter sparks of brilliant _red_ , collided with him in a burst of light that forced all of them to shield themselves and turn away.

When Iris blinked the spots from her vision and turned back to the spot Wally had been, he lay on the ground, sprawled out like Wells but unconscious, and _Barry_ stood between them, licks of lightning shocking around his body and in his eyes like something out of a Greek myth, as he wobbled on his feet.

“Want to see how fast I can run backwards?” he said to no one in particular, and then toppled right where he stood.

 

XXXXX

 

If the focus of all this chaos had been on anyone other than Iris’s loved ones, she would have been fascinated to learn more, to discover every secret and explanation for how Barry had done what he did and what it meant, but the safety of her _brothers_ overrode thoughts of dissecting a new story or pushing her father away in this time of crisis.

Instead, she held Joe close as Caitlin and Cisco rushed to help Wells into his chair and all three of them went to work checking to make sure Barry and Wally were both okay.

It all seemed so impossible, and Joe looked lost in the science jargon more than once after everything calmed down and the explanations began. Barry’s amazing regenerating cells and whatever had happened to him during the accelerator explosion while getting struck by lightning had done far more to him than they thought.

“Is this why his mind’s jumbled?” Iris asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Caitlin said, a phrase Iris was getting tired of hearing, though she knew these kind and remarkable people weren’t to blame.

Wally woke up without any abnormalities in his speech or mental focus, which was a blessing, but his test results showed many of the same abnormalities as Barry.

“Barry can pass on what happened to him to others?” Eddie asked with some concern.

“Not just anyone, Detective,” Wells said. “Wally has something that not everyone else does, a unique characteristic to his genes also found in Barry. And he was present in Central City the night of the explosion, exposing him to dark matter previous to today’s encounter. Barry’s episode seems to have jumpstarted something in Wally’s cells, but I don’t believe it can be repeated with just anyone. You were predisposed to this reaction, Wally. A metaphysical brother to Barry Allen even if not biological.”

“He’ll be okay, though?” Joe asked. “Wally will be okay?”

“We should run more tests, continue to watch both of them carefully, but I promise you, Detective, I will not rest until I have uncovered every secret about what is happening to your sons.”

Wally appeared skeptical at being called Joe’s _son_ so many times in such a short span, though they knew it had to be the truth. It just seemed so petty to be upset with Joe or Francine when so much else was happening.

The presence of Eddie beside Iris kept her grounded, the warmth of his arm around her shoulders, a faint kiss pressed to the back of her head. It helped more than she could say to have that consistent support when Joe had wounded her so deeply, Wally was all but a stranger, and Barry was far away.

“Can someone tell me, please,” Wally spoke up for the first time since being bombarded, “the same day I get called to STAR Labs, I find out I have a dad and a sister, have my DNA rewritten by my _brother_ , and I just need to know…” his eyes really did look so much like _Joe’s_ , “…what do we do now?”

There were tests to do, certainly, but there was also Francine to call and dozens of conversations to have, leaving everyone speechless for how to answer. There was still lunch in the other room that hadn’t been fully eaten. Could it be as simple as returning to that for an hour before they moved on to what came next?

"Sometimes the only way to move forward is to revisit the things in your past that were holding you back,” Barry said, staring up at the ceiling from his med bed, just shy of slurred speech from the sedative they’d given him to help prevent a repeat performance. “You have to deal with them head on, no matter how scary they may be. Because once we do, you'll see that you can go further than you ever imagined."

Tears strung Iris’s eyes at how much that sounded like the Barry she missed. “That’s…really beautiful, Barr,” she moved for the side of the bed to hold his hand.

“Yes,” Wells said, “quite beautiful.”

“Are you with us?” she asked, smoothing the hair from his face and looking into hazy green eyes.

“Yeah, Barry, you good?” Cisco came up on his other side.  

Barry looked at Iris with a warm smile, then at Cisco with just as much fondness. “This house is bitchin’.”

Any other day or time, Iris might have laughed, because that did not sound like Barry at all, but today it stung like an electric shock to her spine.

“Great,” Cisco smiled falsely in reply, always trying so hard to be optimistic, which Iris truly appreciated, but unable to deny when reality once again knocked them down a peg. “That’s great, Barry.”

“Why don’t we start,” Iris wiped the dampness from her eyes as she turned to the newest member of their family in the bed one over, “by getting to know each other. We can figure out the rest as we go.”

Nine months ago, watching Barry die over and over again, Iris didn’t think her heart could break that many times in a row, but these past few days had been worse. With everything else that was developing, she wished there was something, anything that could reach Barry to bring her best friend back to her when she needed him most.

 

XXXXX

 

Eobard breathed a sigh of relief. He was back on track.

It had been a gamble to discharge some of his own electromagnetic energy with a tachyon burst from his chair when Barry and Wally crashed into each other, but a worthwhile one, and now The Flash was all but obsolete, leaving room for his young partner to take his place early.

The strange thing was, the 2024 newspaper article hadn’t changed, other than the very curious alteration to the byline being written by Iris West- _Thawne_. Curious indeed, because if that solidified, Eobard could have a paradox on his hands that he could not afford.

Barry could still prove useful, could still recover and put on the mantle of Eobard’s greatest enemy, but what mattered now was tailoring the plan to fit the changing variables and to prepare to get rid of any of the players involved if necessary and if an opportune moment presented itself.

 

XXXXX

 

_The calculations_

_Stay focused, Barry_

_I need a urine sample_

_We need a picture_

_I went to ask Joe for his blessing_

_You mean the half-man/half-shark that tried to kill you_

_I am really not feeling this_

_Now_ that’s _the Barry Allen I know and love_

_I have been and always shall be—_

_I have been and always_ shall be

_Time for a test run_

Barry stopped, mid-circle for the next symbol on the wall of the Pipeline cell he’d been about to draw, the focus shifted to Wally now and running tests on him, while Barry was kept under lockdown until they could be certain he wasn’t a danger to himself or anyone else.

As he experienced one brief moment of true clarity, clinging to the faint sound of that old unique voice from inside Time, he smiled, “No strings…” before the din came in again like rolling thunder and he returned to his scribbling.

 

XXXXX

 

It was the perfect score, but the timing had to be exact, and Len wasn’t wholly onboard with the new crew he’d acquired for the job. He would have rather had Mick, even his sister along, but Lisa hadn’t been available when he first started planning, too late to bring her in now, though he’d get her something pretty when the job was done. And Mick…well.

He still needed to make things up to Mick.

Regardless, in a few weeks’ time, he’d be home in Central City, on his usual, bi-annual romp through familiar turf to steal something worthwhile. This time the payoff was like no other, sure to be a heist for the ages when Len finally got his hands on The Kahndaq Diamond.

 

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Leonard Snart, much to Eobard's chagrin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, wow, you guys, THANK YOU!
> 
> RL is kicking my ass, I barely have time to think, so I'm focusing all my free energy on writing, which means I'm going to be awful about responding back to comments, but I want you to know that I read every one and I am just overjoyed by everything you guys say. It really means the world and helps to motivate me to write more. 
> 
> I'm still going to focus more on Absolute Matchmaker, but I hope to get chapters of this up regularly too. 
> 
> Thanks again!

The worst part, unfair because of how hopeful it left them for fleeting moments, was that Barry could have a normal conversation for a sentence or two, but then it would dissolve and Eddie would have to remind himself that Iris’s best friend and brother wasn’t as present as he seemed.

He’d barely even known about Barry before the young man’s accident put him in a coma for months. During that time, Eddie grew closer to Iris, and was happy for it, but he hated that the whole reason they got that chance was because someone else had been hurt. Somehow, it might have all been worth it if Barry had woken up okay, even still with his powers, like Wally, as long as his mind was clear. Like this, Eddie wondered if he’d ever get to know the man who meant so much to Iris.

How could Eddie propose and ask her to be his forever when her best friend couldn’t stand up with them? She’d confessed that she used to imagine her wedding as a little girl, different ideas over the years about who the groom might be, but always was Barry her Man of Honor.

She’d talk to him for hours, trying to latch on to specific moments, a phrase here or there that reminded her of an old conversation, and she’d follow the thread for as long as Barry let her.

“I dragged you to see Silent Hill that night, remember? Because I love horror movies, and you hate them, but it’s no fun seeing them alone.”

“Sean Bean lives in that one.”

“He does! And you had a nightmare afterward and slept on my floor, and I tried to cheer you up by listing all the movies he either dies, turns evil—”

“Or both!” Barry finished with a giggle. He had an infectious laugh that always spread to Iris quickly, prompting Eddie to chuckle with them as he looked on and saw how _connected_ they were.  

But like all times before it, Barry’s eyes began to drift. “I don’t like stories about moms that get lost,” he said, sounding so sad, like maybe he’d said those words when he was much younger.

“I know, Barr,” Iris cringed and reached to take his hand.

“Actually, I prefer three sugars, thanks,” Barry pulled away to reach for his marker, always nearby, always what he sought before long, “thanks, blanks, banks—he used to rob banks, you know, but rarely even knocks off a convenience store these days,” he said like that was an in-joke none of them understood because he wasn’t talking to _them_ anymore.

Eddie couldn’t call on old memories like Iris, so he used his time with Barry, sometimes with her still there but needing a break, to tell Barry about _him_. His favorite bands and food and subjects in school once upon a time, and especially his favorite TV shows and movies, since he enjoyed horror movies just as much as Iris did.

“That means you don’t have to bite the bullet anymore, buddy. We’ll invite you along for the cheesy action flicks, huh? And sci-fi? You love that sort of thing, right?”

Cisco was in the room that day, scanning Barry’s symbols for new iterations to aid in his decryption, and Barry turned to him, as if continuing a separate conversation. 

"Yeah, and every time at the end, you turn to me and say, 'I have been and always shall be your friend'."

“What?” Cisco spun about to face him. “Did you just quote _Wrath of Khan_ at me? Is this a bonding moment, coz dude, I will whip out Star Trek right now in the break room, don’t even tempt me.”

They’d done it too—just Barry, Cisco, and Eddie, since Iris wouldn’t get off work for hours, and it had been agreed that someone always had to be with Barry. They marathoned _Wrath of Khan_ and _Search for Spock_ until Wells came looking for Cisco, then Eddie stopped for the day since he didn’t want to watch Star Trek IV without Iris when he knew how much she loved ‘the whale one’.

Barry hadn’t really watched the movies with them, more like glanced on occasion, laughed, or echoed a line here or there throughout, the rest of his time spent drawing on the walls, like he had almost everywhere else on the main floor of STAR Labs.

At night they put him in the Pipeline, which Joe and Iris hated, but they couldn’t risk anything else. Barry only slept four hours a night, then he was back to his drawing, and every so often, a certain touch or phrase or even nothing at all would send him zipping around the Labs like that first day he revealed his powers.

At least now, Wally could catch up to slow him down.

It had started as just tests to see how fast Wally was and figure out what else his powers could do, which in turn they knew might lead to discoveries about Barry, but when the case against Mardon got more heated, Wally demanded to offer aid because he _could_ , because his abilities gave him an advantage when Mardon had his own unbelievable powers at his disposal.

The weather, he controlled the weather like some sort of _wizard_ , Cisco had said—like _Barry_ said, days earlier as if he knew, but how could he know the future when much of the time his mind was in the past? They chalked it up to coincidence that first time and focused on supporting Wally even when Joe flat out said no.

Cisco was so excited at the thought of training a superhero, he’d already had a costume made to keep Wally’s identity secret, much to Joe’s dismay, but in the end, they’d taken Mardon down together without anyone getting hurt.

Eddie hadn’t planned to be there with them. He was at the Labs, but when Wally suited up to head out to his father’s aid, Barry had grabbed Eddie’s wrist, looked at him and said, “ _Eddie_ ,” for the first time, his _name_ , “Joe doesn’t need to. He doesn’t. You can help, but be careful, okay?”

“Barry? Do you know something we don’t?”

Barry nodded, but what he said was, “I have a feeling she's gonna want to hyphenate.”

The flush that filled Eddie’s face burned his cheeks, but he didn’t have time to wonder if Barry knew about the ring in his pocket.

He told Wally to take him along, and the kid obeyed with a dizzying whirlwind Eddie wasn’t sure he ever wanted to experience again, but then they were there to work as a team. Wally used a true whirlwind to subdue Mardon, moving so fast around him that the air sucked away and he passed out from lack of oxygen. Then the boy zipped Mardon back to STAR Labs to hold him in the Pipeline the same way they kept Barry, ensuring he couldn’t hurt anyone until they learned more about what the Accelerator Explosion had done to people, and how many other ‘meta humans’ might appear.

The only thing Eddie couldn’t be sure about was what Barry had meant by ‘Joe doesn’t need to’ but he was glad none of them had been pushed to do anything they might have regretted later.

“We need a name for you,” Cisco said, all of them huddled around Wally after Mardon’s capture.

“The Streak?” Iris suggested.

“The Blur?” Eddie tried.

“You move so fast, man, it’s like you get places in a…” Cisco trailed, eyes lighting up as he met Wally’s gaze and they said at the same time, “ _flash_.”

“Guys, I am totally The Flash,” Wally declared.

“More like Kid Flash,” Barry said from his whiteboard. After Cisco realized the pattern of symbols repeated, they’d felt better about erasing Barry’s drawings as he went, so the whiteboard was fresh and new for him again.

“That’s it,” Iris said with a small smile at Barry’s turned back, “ _that’s_ the name.”

“What?” Wally lamented. “ _Kid_ Flash? Uh, come on…”

They all laughed, and somehow the disaster of everything that had happened seemed lighter again, even with the potential for dozens maybe more powerful metas out there like Mardon.

Frankly, Eddie was glad that if things had to be this way, at least they were in it together, to watch out for Barry, and to watch over Wally as he played hero in this strange new world with criminals he wasn’t sure the CCPD could handle without help.

 

XXXXX

 

Sometimes Wally couldn’t believe he had a brand new family—a father, sister, _and_ brother, as well as the new friends he’d made in Cisco, Eddie, and Caitlin, and a mentor in Wells. It was surreal enough to have that brand new support system when he needed it most, concerned for his mother and struggling through school, but now he was a superhero to boot, something he hadn’t realized he couldn’t live without until he had it.

He didn’t want his mother to know about his abilities or his night job, she was going through enough, but they’d all met and managed to work through an awkward meal or two. Iris had a tougher time accepting Francine than Wally did Joe, which made sense. Joe never knew he existed, but Francine had always known she had a daughter out there she wasn’t willing to see simply because she was ashamed. There wasn’t anything to say other than apologies and a wiliness to move forward with the time they had.

One thing Wally didn’t expect and never would have asked for was Wells offering to pay for Francine’s treatments, even though Caitlin and many other doctors had confirmed that there was no cure for MacGregor's Syndrome.

“Consider it your internship pay,” Wells said.

“Ain’t that a little _much_?”

“You’re in your current situation because I brought you here… _Kid_ Flash.”

“Yeah, but that I kinda love,” Wally said. “It also brought me to my family, even if it was an accident. I owe you everything, Dr. Wells.”

“Just keep getting faster. I’ll worry about the rest.”

They were lucky to have such a kind supporter when most people in the world only cared about using others. Mardon proved that. Got superpowers and the first thing he did was hurt people with it.

Whenever Wally wasn’t at classes, which he’d kept at Keystone instead of transferring to CCU since he could get to the neighboring city in less time than his old commute, he spent more time at STAR Labs training and hanging around Barry than anyone else.

The idea that Barry wasn’t his _real_ brother never even dawned on him. Barry had grown up with Iris for more years than he’d been an only child. He’d been raised by Joe for more years than his own father. Barry was a _West_ even if not by name, whereas Wally was the one learning what being a West meant, even if he already had the name and blood in his veins.

Joe and Iris told him about Barry’s situation—about his mother and father and so many years spent hoping to prove his father’s innocence. Joe was adamant that Barry was wrong, but Iris had an open mind, if only because Barry had always been so certain. Wally didn’t know what to think, but he felt for his brother who already knew what it was like to lose a parent.

They ate lunch together every day, sometimes dinner too, because both Wally and Barry needed to eat a ridiculous amount. Wally had found that out the hard way, but as long as Barry didn’t use his abilities, he didn’t need to consume the full 10,000 calories Wally had each day.

Since Wally didn’t know how to veer Barry down a memory thread like his family, he simply responded to everything Barry said as if it was perfectly normal.

“Joe tries too hard sometimes, ya know? When I need him to back off for a while, I start telling him specifics about classwork or how Caitlin and Cisco are working on my speed.”

“In other words, make up some sciency stuff to throw him off?”

“Exactly!” Wally laughed, always thrilled when Barry’s responses matched enough that he could forget they were having separate conversations. “We should race sometime, man, it would be so much fun. Just inside the Accelerator. I bet we could get Wells to agree to let you run a _mile_ at least.”

“I can do it in three,” Barry said with a touch of pride, taking a bite of his sandwich, while one hand doodled in a notebook they’d given him.

“Wanna bet?” Wally said.

“I have mad skills. Key Club, Astronomy Club, and Yearbook.”

“And anime club,” Iris called, peeking at them as if she’d been watching from the doorway for a while now.

This side room was Barry’s whenever he wasn’t in his cell or with the others in the Cortex, because it had the most empty surface areas—a table, mini fridge, bathroom just outside, almost everything he needed to pass the time on autopilot for the few minutes he might be alone each day.

“Anime club, really?” Wally asked.

“Oh yeah,” Iris said as she entered, “he loved Dragon Ball Z.”

“I definitely had quite the nerd thing going on, huh?” Barry said, right in line with their discussion again.  

“Dude, have you seen Abridged?” Wally said. “I _have_ to show it to you.”

“Abridged?” Iris repeated.

“It's like they take DBZ and cut out all the filler, so it's more fast-paced.”

She snickered as she sat down with them. “A _speedster_ preferring something fast-paced, you don't say.”

“Come on, man,” Wally looked to Barry again, “I’ll show you the first episodes after lunch before Wells pulls me away for training.”

One of those brief, beautiful moments passed where Barry seemed entirely grounded. “You keep the stars dim,” he said.

“Yeah?” Wally brightened, because they’d come to realize that it was his repetition and ranting that was the part of him most trying to communicate and not just memories or strange predictions of the future they weren’t sure they believed.

“An old trick, and an old friend,” Barry said. “Funny thing about holograms. They're just pale reflections of the real deal.”

Then the moment passed, and Barry didn’t make sense again, at least not that they could figure out.

“That’s cool, man, yeah,” Wally said, patting Barry’s arm, which encouraged him to take another bite of his sandwich but made the ever-present crinkle in Iris’s brow deepen.

Wally wished he could have known his brother the way he truly was. Maybe someday. For now, this had to be enough.

 

XXXXX

 

There were times when Barry was so adamant about telling them something, as if he knew important information but didn’t know how to express it, yet it always dissolved before he could explain, if his words meant anything at all.

Caitlin would follow him down to the Pipeline where he’d watch the cells—from the monitor, not pulling any forward to look the occupants in the eyes, which Caitlin would have stopped if he’d tried. He just stared at Mardon, at Nimbus in the Pipeline now too, with a serious frown.

“They shouldn’t be here.”

“I know, Barry, we’ll figure out something else eventually. Maybe we could reform them?”

“Some, yes, but not _them_.”

She startled at the moment of lucidity. “You could be right, they seem more on the sociopathic side, unfortunately.”

“But the next one is a good man,” he said, subtle smile tugging at his lips, “deep down.”

“You know the next meta human?” she asked, holding still so as not to break the spell.

“Not a meta, just a man.”

“Who, Barry? Who are you talking about?”

“He’s a Legend,” Barry’s smile stretched wider when he looked at her. “I miss him. My nemesis.”

“Nemesis? What do you—”

“I can't change what happened between us in the past,” Barry’s gaze drifting again, “but I can offer you a chance to change what happens in our future.”

“Barry—”

“Fear makes us do a lot of things we sh-shoulda, coulda, woulda. Would you make the stars be quiet, please, I can’t _think_ ,” he grabbed either side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

Caitlin sighed. “Come on, Barry, let’s take you back to your room.”

The one thing that always calmed him was drawing, though they still had no idea what the symbols meant. If only they could get those lucid moments to last longer, but Barry had stalled, like his mind was waiting for some trigger to push him the next mile forward.

 

XXXXX

 

Nemesis. The _Reverse Flash_ was Barry’s nemesis, but Eobard knew he meant someone else. A _Legend_. Nonsense. Snart was only a two-bit thief, but Barry had always gravitated toward the man like he was worth more than reality.

Snart had been a thorn in Eobard’s side before, but his appearance now would slow everything down if Barry’s predictions panned out. The only potential saving grace was that Barry’s mind might be too far ahead of them. After all, Snart shouldn’t be a problem for some time yet. He didn’t create the cold gun for years.

As long as nothing happened to change that trajectory, the future was still on course.

 

XXXXX

 

Cisco would have chalked Barry up to being plain cray-cray if not for those moments when he responded to exactly what they were saying, or recommended solutions that were real answers to their problems. Even more remarkable was when he’d draw something other than his symbols.

One day, Cisco came in after a quick bathroom break to find the whiteboard strewn with real equations and a blueprint for what looked like handcuffs.

Another time he returned to a full schematic for redesigned jail cells well beyond what the Pipeline was capable of to negate meta human abilities. Every time, Cisco looked into what Barry had left for them, and the work was flawless, something he believed _he_ would have come up with if given more time, even with some of his own signature to it, as if Barry could read his mind—or the future.

Then there were moments like today when Barry fell into step with Wally as if they were both Central City’s finest.

The idea was to test Wally’s ability to multitask, having him play chess with Dr. Wells, Operation with Caitlin, and ping-pong with Cisco at the same time, but while he was killing at all three, time and again Barry would zip in to take his place and make a move in his stead.

It was a whirlwind of red and yellow that was actually pretty fun. Cisco didn’t understand how the pair never ran into each other, but he supposed to them, they were each moving at a speed they could react to, even though Wally never told Barry to knock it off or watch out, he merely laughed and groaned or good-naturedly pushed Barry in the shoulder when he beat him. Barry was clearly having fun too, and anything that got him away from his scrawling symbols was a bonus.

“Checkmate,” Barry finally said, giving a winning move at the chessboard while Wally finished an expert shot at ping-pong and completed Operation moments later without a single buzz at the sides.

“You _suck_ , dude,” Cisco moaned.

Wally was still laughing as he flashed to Barry’s side in front of Wells to pat him on the back, a little out of breath but having enjoyed the race that pushed his limits.

Wells looked more impressed at being beaten in a game of strategy than at either of their speeds. “Now, now, Mr. Allen. Wally still has much to learn. We can’t make everything easy on him.”

Barry just smiled, but before he could say anything, an alert sounded through the Cortex that brought Cisco running to the computer terminal.

“Heads up, guys! I think we got something. Armed robbery at 4th and Collins.”

In seconds, Wally had zipped into his suit, eager to hit the streets. Barry rarely had a reaction to the commotion of Kid Flash, but today, he moved across the Cortex to peer over Cisco’s shoulder.

“Gonna help us keep an eye on things today, pal?” Cisco said.

For some reason, Barry had never looked so happy. “No strings on me.”

 

XXXXX

 

They had 182 seconds. Len needed less than half that.

What he didn’t expect was the blur of yellow that zipped past him when he dove from the truck, knocking him to the ground _inhumanly_ fast. It also wasn’t at all kosher that one of his men had taken it upon himself to shoot a guard. Sloppy. Not to mention against the rules.

The blur though, that was something. Must be this _Kid Flash_ everyone was talking about. Len should have been upset, and he _was_ —with his negligent crewmate—but having the challenge upped when it came to carrying out a good heist, especially one he’d spent six months fine-tuning, had him intrigued.

Even with the job ruined, maybe Central was worth sticking around for a while. And after all, he still needed to get his hands on that diamond.  

 

XXXXX

 

Barry had been right—again. Troubling.

Snart had made his grand entrance after all, and what was worse was that Cisco had veered the timeline even further by creating the cold gun. Snart would have made his own in time, but now he would have his weapon of choice sooner because Cisco was too clever for his own good, and some janitor had stolen things right from under their noses, no doubt about to sell the gun to a specific bidder any time now.

Eobard couldn’t allow for anymore sidetracking. He might have gotten too intense with Cisco when he called him out on making the weapon, but subtly wasn’t something he could afford for much longer.

His life and future depended on everything going to plan. No one and nothing else mattered.

 

XXXXX

 

“Leonard Snart? That’s almost as bad as Bartholomew, right, Barry?” Wally joked, so at ease with him, which was part of what had endeared Iris to her brother in only weeks’ time. He was a good kid, amazing, really, with or without the powers.

“We should start a club,” Barry said, and Wally snickered.

There was something about this heist that had Barry abandoning his scribbles more than usual, alert to what everyone was doing, even if the words that left him were still fragmented.

Wells kept passing Barry concerned, cryptic looks. He must have noticed the change too.

What startled Iris the next day, however, was Barry’s cell phone going off in her purse. She kept it with her, charged and handy in case anyone who didn’t know about Barry’s condition tried to reach him. The name that blinked at her now was ‘Felicity Smoak’.

“Hello? Felicity?”

“Um, yes? I’d ask if I have a wrong number but that would make you knowing my name far more unsettling.”

“This is Iris. Iris West.”

“Barry’s Iris? Not that you’re _his_ or anything, or that he’d ever want you to be, why would that even come up? Sorry, I’m rambling. Is Barry there? Is he okay? I heard he woke up from the coma.”

“He did. And he’s right next to me actually,” Iris glanced at Barry working on calculations that had nothing to do with his circular symbols today but were something she understood even less. “He can’t really talk though. Are you in town?”

“Yeah, I am. I was hoping to see him.”

“You should come to STAR Labs then, but I have to warn you, he isn’t the same Barry you met.”

Felicity was everything Iris expected after the way Barry had described her. Beautiful, fiercely intelligent, and a master at talking herself in circles, all of which reminded Iris so much of Barry, it was no wonder he’d glowed when he talked about her. She’d be perfect for him.

The sympathy in her eyes when she saw Barry spoke of real affection too. Iris didn’t second guess for a moment inviting Felicity to the Labs.

For now, they were in Barry’s room, where he was strangely calm and immobile like he was waiting for something, his blueprints on the whiteboard finished now, depicting what looked like some sort of gun. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, Barry,” Felicity said, sitting with him at the table, with Iris on his other side, “things have just been really busy at, um, _work_.”

“Yeah,” Barry nodded, turning to Iris, “Felicity works with The Arrow.”

“ _What?_ ” Iris gawked at him.

“Okay,” Felicity turned two shades paler. “That confirms _those_ fears. Crap. Um…”

“You know who The Arrow is?” Iris said, unable to contain her eagerness. Barry had clearly had far more happen to him in Starling than solving an unexplainable case. “Wait, Barry,” she focused back on him, “ _you_ know who The Arrow is?”

Barry's lips parted, but Felicity pounced, hands shooting out to cover his mouth, which she then flinched back with a cringe. “Sorry, it’s just…Barry, you’re supposed to keep that a secret, remember?”

“You just outed my secret identity to a super villain,” he said with equal accusation.

“Um, what? _Your_ secret identity?” Felicity frowned, looking about the room as if some obvious puzzle piece had to be nearby, which was true to some extent, but then the clever gears in her head began to spin. “Wait, you’re not…oh my god, Barry, are you Kid Flash? No wait, that can’t be right, I’ve seen pictures…” she turned scrutinizing eyebrows onto _Iris_ next.

Wally, of course, chose that moment to flash into the room, sans suit or any mask, with a kick of lightning at his heels.

“Hey, Barr, what’s—oh, uh…” his eyes went perfect deer-in-headlights wide, “I don’t know you, and I just…I can explain…” he held out his hands.

“Kid Flash?” Felicity said with a grin.

Iris still refused to regret her decision. “Felicity, this is my brother Wally. And we have a lot to fill you in on.”

“Hi,” Felicity said, rising from her seat as Wally came over, “Felicity Smoak.”

“Wally West,” he took her hand with a bashful shrug.

“Barry Allen,” Barry said. “But you both already knew that.”

A laugh left Iris before she could help it. She wanted more time for all of them to talk and digest these revelations, but unfortunately, Leonard Snart had other ideas.

“Guys,” Cisco’s voice came over the speakers. “Joe has a visual on Snart at the museum. Time to suit up, KF.”

The three of them rushed for the Cortex, Wally flashing ahead to get into costume. Cisco was accompanied by Caitlin and Wells by the time Iris and Felicity joined them, with Barry appearing as if he’d been in step with them all along.

A moment later, Wally was gone, but the others paused to gape at the newcomer.

“Hi,” Felicity waved feebly.

“Miss West, what is the meaning of—”

“I have to go,” Barry said before Wells could finish.

Everyone stared. If he had been more rambling and off-kilter, Iris might have ignored the words, but Barry’s posture, his focus, all of it was more determined than she'd seen him all these weeks.

“Go where, Barry?” she asked, and he turned to look right at her with that rare glimpse of clarity.

“He doesn’t mean to kill anyone. He thought I was fast enough, but I wasn’t yet. I am now. I can get there before Wally does so no one has to die.”

“Barry—” Iris tried, terrified of what he might mean.

But a shock of lightning later, Barry was gone.

 

XXXXX

 

Len could admit it—he was having _fun_. And that hadn’t happened in a good long while.

Sure, he’d had to thin the herd of his crew, there was no room for fools who couldn’t take orders to keep the heat off, but this, just Len and a new challenge, reminded him of the thrill he used to get from his best heists.

Back then it was about not getting caught, but the most fun was when he did, when there was a chase, when there was some danger involved and an added dose of adrenaline. The chase was that much sweeter against someone as fast as Kid Flash.

“Time for a test run,” he said once the kid was in his sights at the theater. “Let’s see how fast you are.”

He knew Kid Flash was impossibly quick, but he needed to know what sort of hero he was dealing with. So he aimed for civilians, certain that his enemy was fast enough to save them, he just needed to be sure that he _would_.

One by one, the boy dove in to save each person or pair from the cold gun’s blast in the nick of time, but when Len whirled about to point down the aisle into the dregs of the theater itself, in the split second that he saw worry on Kid Flash’s face, he feared he’d guessed wrong and that an innocent man was about to pay the price.

Len watched, breath held when he should have been on guard, but in his mind, he repeated the mantra— _come on, kid,_ come on.

It all happened in seconds, and what Len saw was Kid Flash being too slow to reach the usher in time, yet in that same moment, the picture changed.

The hero stumbled at the front of the theater, running into the coating of ice that had preceded him, slipping and falling to the floor, but the usher was no longer there. He stood to the left, safe, where a second fresh flicker of yellow lightning so similar to the speedster’s had heralded the arrival of someone new.

Len didn’t know this man—young, brunette, boyish and smiling, wearing sweats and a STAR Labs T-shirt of all things like he’d just come from a workout, though he hardly looked out of breath—yet there he was, having saved the usher in the hero’s place, as fast as Len had hoped for.

“It's just a matter of time,” the stranger said to him, beautiful and unexpected, and then, in the next moment, he, the usher, Kid Flash, and everyone else, all vanished in a blink.

 

XXXXX

 

Eobard held back during the initial chaos of Barry’s return. The broken boy’s only answer to what had become of the usher was, “He’s safe, home,” before his words tumbled into fragments.

Somehow he’d flashed both Wally and West to the Labs after taking the usher to safety, faster than should be possible, far faster than Wally was—fast enough to bring Eobard home if his power could be harnessed. But this was the first time Barry had left the labs in all these weeks. They’d never worried about locking doors and had long since stopped keeping him in the Pipeline except at night.

West tried to devolve into ranting and raving that Barry had to be careful, had to stay _here_ , couldn’t risk interfering like that again, but Wally was so grateful Barry had come to his aid.

“I wasn’t fast enough. If you hadn’t been there, Barry…”

Iris broke up West’s pleas of frantic fatherly concern, shushing them all to calm down, no one had been hurt, it all turned out okay save Snart’s retreat. And now they knew something else, something Eobard had already predicted—that Snart had the cold gun.

Cisco admitted to the others that he was the one who’d made it as a failsafe against Barry months ago before he woke up and they knew if he was a good man. Of course, now, from their perspective, it made sense to have something around that could stop Barry, but the cold gun meant any speedster could be slowed, and Eobard needed one or both of them to go faster than they’d ever dreamed, as fast as Barry had gone tonight.

Eobard played his part as necessary, rising to Cisco’s defense, wishing Wally well, offering his condolences and his relief that no one had been killed, but as soon as the others were preoccupied with discussion on how to stop Snart next or ways to keep Barry at STAR Labs without making him a prisoner, he inched ever closer to Barry’s side where the young man had descended on a wall to draw.

“You _know_ , don’t you?” Eobard whispered, staring daggers at Barry’s profile like a threat because he wondered now if that’s what was needed.

Barry paused, lowered his marker, centered his bright eyes right through Eobard’s soul, and said, “I forgive you.”

Loathing and terror bristled in the pit of Eobard’s stomach. “Tell me,” he hissed, low to be certain no one heard them but still adamant. “Do you know who I am?”

“A very sad man,” Barry said, as if everything else had fallen away. Then, like any time before, his calm cracked. “Man with the plan. Even with my powers, I'm still powerless against him. It’s beautiful, you know, like galaxies dying and being born all at once, but the way they sing and _scream_ and call to me, I c-can’t…” he dug the heel of his palm into his temple again as if to stay a piecing pain, “I…I-I…I'm going full nerd again, aren't I?” he laughed, and the next moment, Iris was there to lead him away.

Eobard allowed it. He couldn’t risk lashing out, even if he worried what might come next. Perhaps, someday soon, he’d have to do something drastic, but given recent events, maybe the person he most needed to worry about was Leonard Snart.

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are the best way to prompt faster updates. :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len finally gets to talk to his mystery speedster, and Cisco could definitely use a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I thought the energy would stick with Absolute Matchmaker, but I love how much you guys are enjoying Timeless too, so I wanted to get the next chapter of this out to you before moving back to that again. 
> 
> I hope everyone is having a good holiday season! I have two more days of complete me time that I plan to use working on Absolute Matchmaker's next chapter, and I'll likely continue to alternate between these stories from there, attempting to get at least one chapter up a week, maybe even one chapter of each story. 
> 
> Thank you for being so amazing, and for every comment that spurs me onward!

The last few days had been titillating to be sure. A couple one-on-ones with Kid Flash, the arrival of an alluring stranger, and Mick had agreed to work with Len to stake a new claim on the city in the wake of these heroic upheavals.

Len owed Mick a good turn after the job they last pulled ended with him burned over much of his body. In all honesty, if he’d only listened to Len, kept his cool, waited to start the fire as instructed so it wouldn’t spread too quickly, the way things turned out might have been different, but passing the blame didn’t work with Mick.

Len told him they were finished after that, once his friend was clear of infection and slowly healing, but he’d told Mick they were through many times over their decades’ long friendship. They always ended up partners again. Len just hoped that this time he could give Mick proper direction.

The heat gun he’d gifted him was a good start.

Calling it quits in Central City with someone like Kid Flash around might have seemed the smarter play, but to Len, he saw opportunity. Besides, he knew the boy’s weakness—compassion. He had a good heart, wouldn’t let civilians get caught in the crossfire. Len had proven that point when he lured Kid Flash to the train.

He really was young, Len discovered, seeing the boy’s face more clearly, even if most of it was covered by his mask. ‘Kid’ was a fitting title.

That night, Len had hoped the other speedster might show, help out like he had before once the train was headed toward disaster, but no such luck. Kid Flash saved the day as expected down to the last endangered citizen, but he did so without assistance.

“Pretty fast, Kid,” Len snuck up on him in the aftermath and blasted him to freeze him to the ground, “but not fast enough. Where’s your friend out of the suit? You got a big brother I don’t know about?”

The startled concern that filled the kid’s face said Len might have guessed right, despite the lacking family resemblance. Len figured he’d ice the kid further to ensure a safe getaway—if he could handle the blasts of cold this well, his team could save him fine from something a little more full-coverage—but before he could fire, the white hats showed up to the boy’s defense, sans the cute brunette.

Foolish lot, these hero types. No masks on them. Len would be able to track them all easily. He already knew STAR Labs was involved thanks to the older Flash.

Huh. _Flash_. Maybe that’s why the younger version added ‘Kid’. Since Len didn’t have a name for him yet, it was as good a title as any. After all, thanks to the rescue team, Len also had his own nickname now.

 _Captain Cold_. Adorable. It was perfect, and would absolutely stick around.

Strange though that Flash hadn’t shown up to assist his baby brother when he’d obviously needed the help. Flash was faster than his younger counterpart. More experienced maybe. Pity if he lived in some other city, but if another speedster was saving people somewhere, it would have made national news by now. No, he was local like Kid Flash, Len just had to figure out why he stayed hidden.

Even stranger were the dreams Len had been having ever since he saw that youthful face. Nothing familiar or normal like a played out scene, more like living energy he couldn’t quite explain, like that lightning trail the speedsters left behind them, but all around Len, brilliant and endless, spanning through distance and time like he could get lost there and never find his way home.

He hated those dreams, almost woke short of breath like fighting a nightmare, but Flash’s voice, _“It’s only a matter of time,”_ that voice was there to call him home, even though he never recalled the words used in the dreams.

Clearly, all this mid-life crisis was making him sentimental.

He needed a plan. He needed to take his time. He needed to keep Mick happy, and today that meant lunch at Saints and Sinners, Len’s treat, to begin working on their next move. If all went well, Lisa would want in too.

Len was excited, even almost giddy. Finally, something had come along to shake up the monotony and change his perspective on the game.

And it smelled like ozone.

 

XXXXX

 

Cisco could admit that he was protective of his potato—something he never called Barry in mixed company, only ever with Caitlin around or just to Barry’s face. Barry didn’t complain. It was _funny_ , since he’d been a vegetable for so long.

But the point was, Cisco felt responsible for Barry, maybe more so than any of the others, because he’d been there to watch over him all those months. Cisco knew Caitlin felt the same, but Wally needed her more than Barry did now, watching all the nuances of him using his powers, revealing untapped potential at every turn. If Wally, Joe, Iris, and Eddie were all away, Cisco was the one constant with Barry, and he took that duty seriously.

When Barry left STAR Labs on his own, it changed everything. It meant they couldn’t simply keep him company during the day and lock him up at bedtime. Barry was just as powerful as Wally, maybe more so, without anything to ground him. If he ran off, there was no telling where he might go or what trouble he might get into.

Rather than keep him in the Pipeline at all times, Cisco presented a different idea.

“You wanna keep him from leaving the Labs by _letting_ him leave the Labs?” Joe exclaimed.

“It’s basic psychology,” Caitlin came to Cisco’s aid. “If we can associate Barry leaving the Labs as something he only does when he’s having a good day and accompanies someone else, maybe there’s less chance of him running off on his own in the middle of a dangerous meta encounter.”

“But Barry running off probably saved that usher’s life,” Wally said. “Maybe my life too.”

“I know, man,” Cisco comforted the young hero who hadn’t been able to shake how things might have gone even though they’d turned out for the better, “and we need to listen to him. He obviously knows more than we think. But if we want to keep him safe, I think this is the best way to maintain a little control without putting him in a cage.”

The night of the train, before Felicity returned to Starling, she promised to do as much on her end with additional research as she could, see if she had any contacts who might have insight into what was going on in Central with all the meta humans, Barry in particular.

“Be good, Barry,” she’d said, hugging him tight before she left, which he accepted like always whenever Iris or Joe or anyone else pulled him close, “and please try not to spill The Arrow’s secret identity to anyone while I’m gone.”

“I guess what they say is true,” Barry said when they disconnected. “Opposites do attract.”

The way Felicity blushed with startled scrutiny over that choice of words made Cisco wonder if she had a crush on the Staling vigilante. “Not always for the better, Barry.”

“He can be better. I’ve seen it.  If you ever need anything, I will race over in a heartbeat.”

Like all the others, that sporadic moment of clarity made it difficult to remember that he might not be fully _with_ them, maybe it was always an illusion and strange timing, but oh, in the moment, he seemed to see Felicity and understand.

She cupped his cheek. “ _Don't_. But thank you, Barry.”

If Wells was truly upset with Iris for letting a near stranger in on their secrets, he calmed with Felicity’s departure. After all, she’d helped Cisco at the train, she was loyal and aiding her own superhero, she knew what was up. But with her gone and life trying to find any sense of normal between meta encounters, Cisco was the one who saw Barry most often. It had been Wally for a long while, but Wells had him training harder, so that some days, lunch was the only time they saw each other.

The lucid moments, eyes meeting someone else’s as if speaking right to them exactly what they needed or wanted to hear, were always paired with a distant drift of his gaze, speaking nonsensically at no one.

Sometimes it would even be him turning his head and saying with heartfelt affection something benign like, “Happy birthday.”

“Wow,” Cisco said once.

“What?” Caitlin asked, not really paying attention, since she was running a new sample of Wally’s bloodwork.

“I hope someone says that to me with that kind of love someday. I wonder who he’s talking to.”

It should have been impossible for Cisco to form any kind of real relationship with Barry when they couldn’t talk like normal friends, but it didn’t feel impossible. Barry’s words might be out of order, but the sentiment, the affection, the good nature he displayed, it was all so apparent, well beyond the moments of anger or grief that filled Cisco with sympathy more than aversion.

Sometimes, if Cisco got really into discussing some of Barry’s equations, Barry would fall in step with him, and they could spend minutes on end solving something or coming up with new inventions before a distraction or simply _time_ meant Barry’s mind headed somewhere else.

It was one such day, when Cisco was having trouble fine-turning the proposal for the new jail cells to be built at Iron Heights, that he cried eureka figuring out the last of Barry’s design elements and mumbled to himself, “Now who do I even start with to get this rolling through the system…”

“Cecile Horton,” Barry said as if answering Cisco directly, though his eyes remained on the whiteboard, where he had switched to drawing his circular symbols again. “You’ve put your life on hold for us long enough, Joe.”

“Cecile? The DA?” Cisco realized he recognized the name. “That’s a pretty good idea, Barry. And I should have Joe ask her, huh?”

“It’s nice to see him so happy,” Barry said.

Maybe scattered Barry was playing matchmaker. He _had_ implied Felicity and Arrow should be a thing, and Cisco kept thinking that Barry knew things they didn’t, that maybe he really was reading their minds or seeing into the future. Maybe his powers weren’t as cut and dry as Wally’s, and it was just too much for his mind, overwhelming him.

Barry hadn’t shown his speed since the incident with Cold in the theater. It was a good day today, productive, calm, and the two of them were alone. Cisco decided to make good on his idea to take Barry out. He sent a mass text to the group, he wasn’t stupid; he didn’t want anyone freaking out if they came back to the Labs to find them gone, but the general response was simply to be careful.

Dressing Barry in something other than sweats for once, Cisco commandeered the STAR Labs van and headed into the city.

They started with lunch. Easy. Not Big Belly Burger, but a little café Cisco knew wouldn’t be too busy. He’d considered Jitters, but baby steps. He didn’t want to over-stimulate Barry on his first day out. And while the conversation was typical of their time at STAR Labs, half seemingly real, half disjointed, the waitress smiled politely whenever she stopped at the table, understanding that Barry was a special case without Cisco having to explain, and they ate comfortably.

“Maybe seeing some familiar territory will be helpful, huh, Barry?” Cisco said once they were back in the van, deciding to drive them around a while, letting Barry watch out the window and see Central City like he hadn’t in many months.

It was after about twenty minutes, when Cisco planned to return to the Labs, that Barry sat up straighter.

“Left.”

“What? You want to go left?”

“ _Now_.”

“Okay, man.” Cisco turned at the next light.

“Right,” Barry said next, and again, Cisco obeyed, letting Barry be his GPS, wondering where he might be taking them.

Cisco started to get worried when he realized the neighborhood they were heading into wasn’t exactly the nicest, a little rough really, not the type of place Cisco would have expected Barry to know, but his curiosity got the better of him and he kept listening to Barry’s directions until his friend finally said, “Here. Park.”

Cisco did so and scrambled out of the van to follow Barry when he hopped right out onto the sidewalk to hurry down the street. He _had_ locked the doors, but it wasn’t difficult for Barry to pull the lock up to get out. Cisco needed to install some child locks next time.

“Barry, where are you going?” he rushed to keep up with him, since Barry was moving fast, but thankfully not _speedster_ fast.

“I'm seeing things a lot differently now,” Barry said, reaching the door to what looked like a seriously seedy bar and heading right inside without warning.

Cisco envisioned big burly bikers and a bouncer that would stab him without question, but it was still the lunch hour, not exactly a hopping time for a place like this. The bar looked mostly empty once Cisco got inside, though there was a bartender, a waitress mulling about, a couple guys with beers at a table in the corner, but Barry was bee-lining for the booths, and before Cisco could stop him, he slid right into an occupied one beside—

Oh shit. _Captain Cold_.

Barry _could_ see the future. Or the present. Or _something_. And it was going to get them both killed.

 

XXXXX

 

_I'm a criminal and a liar, and I hurt people, and I rob them._

_Merry Christmas, Barry._

_Call me sentimental, I think the Flash should remain a hero._

_Fight, Barry!_

_You make me want to be a better me._

_We can fix this. We can_ fix _you._

_You can call me ‘Len’ anytime, Scarlet._

_I, Leonard Michael Snart—_

A broken mug, shattered and put back together, could never be the same, not without showing off its cracks. But occasionally those cracks could be tempered with something equally beautiful as the original, just different, like golden paint etching lightning into midnight blue.

This wasn’t Flashpoint. This wasn’t the original timeline Eobard ruined. This was something new now, and Barry could see the probability lines leading to a brand new future if he succeeded, which was slowly starting to solidify.

He had to succeed. He had to keep fighting. He’d known—known, shown, _grown_ —that Snart was the key, Snart was the one who’d called him home, Snart was…was… _was_ …

A thief. Scoundrel. Villain.

Hero. Legend. Friend.

And more. Now. Maybe.

 _Always_.

So much more.

 

XXXXX

 

The smell hit Len first—ozone again, like Kid Flash but different. He perked up, thinking that maybe, _maybe_ , but that wasn’t possible, was it? In the middle of his lunch with Mick, talking shop, only for the very object of his distracted thoughts to appear and slide in beside him with a sunny smile—impossible, yet there he was, Len’s stranger in lightning.

 _Flash_.

No STAR Labs sweats adorned the boy today but a burgundy sweater and grey trench with jeans. He was young, true, but effortless and at ease, even in Saints and Sinners, smiling as he had when he saved that usher and zipped everyone away, leaving Len to his crimes. The beard growing in was attractive but misleading, because Len knew that without it he’d look another five years younger. Either way, he was _beautiful_.

“I have to side with Ray on this one, Mick,” he said, stealing one of Len’s fries unabashedly like he belonged and had simply returned from a bathroom break or to grab a beer. “I like _Fiddler_ too, but I wouldn’t say it’s my _favorite_ musical. _Singing in the Rain_ will always have a special place for me.”

Len blinked to compute that, because while he’d had several ready comments for the bold boy strutting into a den of thieves, those words derailed his thought process entirely. Len didn’t know anyone named _Ray_.

“Who’s this now?” Mick gruffed out, shooting down any idea that maybe _he_ knew what was going on. “And how the hell’d he know I like _Fiddler_?”

For once, Len had no answer, but before he could think of something to ask the young man who seemed very familiar with the way he leaned into Len’s body and swiped his food, like he was _welcome_ here and didn’t fear either of them in the slightest, another familiar face came into view.

“Oh shi—” the young man with the very obviously fake weapon from the train station, the voice in Kid Flash’s ear, had the decency to look startled. He wasn’t in on this, had no idea his friend was planning to be so daring.

“My, my, what a situation we have here, gentlemen. Is Kid Flash going to be joining us too?” Len asked.

“Be good, Leo,” the speedster leaned into his shoulder, both the contact and nickname causing Len to flinch, but then Flash spoke again, across the booth this time, not at Mick or at his friend just off the table, but at empty space. “He doesn’t like to be called that. Stick with Len. Or Cold if he’s being uppity.”

“Excuse me?”

“ _Stop_ ,” the other boy slid into the booth beside Mick, but cast him a wary glance and smartly remained poised on the edge of his seat rather than get too close. “Look at me, man, this isn’t cool.”

Flash snickered and stole another of Len’s fries.

“No time for laughing at unintentional puns either,” his friend hissed. “We need to get back. We shouldn’t’ be here. Please, just let us leave,” he looked to Len, then scooted even more to the edge of the booth and held up his hands when Mick glared at him for daring to be even _that_ close. “I have no way of defending myself, total defenseless civilian here, and _he_ is not in his right mind.”

“This the one you were talkin’ about, Snart?” Mick nodded at the fry snatcher. “All speedy like Kid Flash?”

“I’m the fastest man alive,” the boy said.

“He is indeed.” Len unconsciously leaned away from how snuggly close the boy kept trying to get, which pretty face or not, was not in Len’s comfort zone. “But we didn’t have much of a conversation before.”

“He hasn’t had much of a conversation with anyone for months,” the other boy explained. “He’s not right in the head. He got struck by lightning.”

“So that’s why he has such specific powers,” Len put two and two together. “Same for Kid Flash, I presume, he just handled it better?”

“Something like that, but please, man, have a heart. He is totally innocent.”

“Is he?” Len cast his gaze down the full form of the boy beside him, who had another fry in hand, but was using it like a paintbrush through Len’s ketchup, trying to draw a weird circle as if completely oblivious to them now despite how close he sat at Len’s hip. “And what about you, hmm?” he looked across the booth. “You threatened to kill me last time we met.”

“It, uhh…” the young man hunched in on himself that much more when Mick sat up taller, “wasn’t loaded?”

“It wasn’t a _weapon_ , but the point still stands.”

“You knew…?” he seemed honestly surprised and a touch disappointed, before he huffed in resignation. “Look, Cold, just… He’s a meta human, alright? Affected by the Particle Accelerator like all the other people with powers in Central City right now.”

“Obviously. Another speedster, I saw him. An adult _Flash_ to compliment your _Kid_ brother, is it?” Len asked Flash pointedly.  

He smiled to himself but kept looking at Len’s plate of food. “Do you think _The_ Flash sounds too official? I was always partial to The Scarlet Speedster myself.”

“Scarlet? And what part of you is _scarlet_ , I wonder?”

“We don’t know what he is, okay?” the other boy spoke up again. “Sure, he has the same speed as Kid Flash, but he’s like…trapped in his head somehow. Sometimes, he thinks he’s a little boy,” he looked to his friend with honest sympathy, “or it’s a couple years ago, or he thinks it’s 2017 or even further into the future, and he’s having conversations with people who aren’t there. It’s almost like he can—”

“Predict the future.” Len eyed his companion with newfound intrigue.

“It’s not controllable,” the other said, but Len ignored him, shifted in the booth so he could drape an arm over the back of the seat and better size his quarry up.  

“What’s your name, Flash? Your _real_ name.”

“You want to keep pushing your luck, go for it,” Flash ate the fry he’d been painting with and looked at Len seriously, “but from here on out, no one else dies.”

“You want me to promise not to kill anyone for your _name_?”

“If you're as good as you say you are, you don't have to kill anyone to get what you want.”

Len wondered if he was being played, but if he was, this kid was far too good of an actor. “That’s true. Okay. _Deal_.” He didn’t have to uphold his end of a bargain with a basket case, after all, but the kid wasn’t wrong—Len was too good for collateral damage. He hadn’t wanted that security guard to get shot or for the usher to end up iced.

The smile that graced Flash’s face in response made him look unfairly striking. “My name is Bartholomew Henry Allen. That's not a good name,” he glanced away with a cringe.  

“ _Barry_ …” the other boy said in reprimand.

Didn’t like his given name much; Len understood completely. “ _Barry_ Allen. Nice to meet you, Barry. So we know each other in the future then? You part of my crew someday?”

Barry looked at the empty space between the men in front of him. “Draycon’s my jam.”

Like The Kahndaq Diamond’s security? Interesting…

“He’s never said anything like _that_ before,” his friend said.

“We should keep talking, Barry,” Len leaned forward, trying to keep the boy’s attention on him, “maybe we can help each other.”

Barry turned to him like before but seemed to look right through him. “I had to do something while Wally was cuffing him. Thanks to you, we changed the future. If we can change one of these events, we can change 'em all. Nothing is set in stone.”

“Wally? Is that Kid Flash?”

“Barry, _stop_ ,” his friend said in increasing distress. “You’re gonna get someone hurt. Come on, _please_.”

Now, Barry looked forward again. “He's a criminal because he had Lewis for a father. That could have been me.”

Len’s stomach dropped.

“I don’t like this, Snart,” Mick finally voiced his dissent, watching the display and the boy beside him with growing ire and clenched fists.  

Len was starting to doubt his instincts as well. “Who are you?” he asked Barry with an edge to convey his threat. “Really?”

Barry’s eyes were startlingly green and earnest, and this time when he looked at Len, he looked _at_ him. “Never tell Iris I said this, but I think the whole hyphen thing is kinda lame. But if you don’t want me to take yours, we can do that instead. Or you can take mine. I want you to be happy.”

“Yeah…” the other boy said when Len could only stare as he attempted to process _that_ , “sometimes I’m pretty sure he’s just nuts, but it’s hard to know. He doesn’t mean any harm though, I swear. He says things that hurt sometimes or freak us out, but he doesn’t _mean_ to. He can’t control this.”

“Yet he potentially knows all my secrets and my future.” Len decided Barry wasn’t faking it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat and a potential asset beyond that pretty face.  

“Let me help you, Snart,” he said next.

“Absolutely, Barry.” Len already had a dozen ideas spinning for how he could make use of Barry’s rambling if he played this carefully.

“Okay, look,” Barry turned to him fully, though the appearance of being in his right mind seemed to come and go as easily as flipping a switch, “this isn't going to make any sense to you, but I—all right, so I traveled back in time from when we tried to take out Savage. I mean, later, when we tried to take him down in the future, and it doesn't work.”

None of that meant anything to Len—time travel, seriously?—and he could feel the rise of his eyebrows as he gaped at Barry dumbly. “Alright…”

Then the most awful pain tore across his face. “I feel so hollowed out inside right now. I feel more broken than I've ever felt in my life. If I'm ever gonna be worth anything to you, I need to fix what's wr-wr-wrong, song, gong.” He slammed the side of his head with the flat of his palm so hard, Len winced. “Why is everyone gone? They always leave, they always _leave_. I just want to make things right this time, Len,” he looked at him with such heartfelt honesty, it caught Len’s breath in his throat. “I know it’s not fair, it’s not my place, but it was all wrong because of me, because I was selfish. You deserve better. We all do. I can fix this. I can solve the equation. I can save everyone.”

“Barry?” the other boy questioned once more, but this time he sounded confused and hopeful.

Barry turned at the interruption and spoke right back at his friend. “It’s okay, Cisco, I promise it’s okay. He’s a good man, you’ll see. So is Mick. They can be better. They just need to believe they’re worth it.”

“Snart, this kid is creeping me out,” Mick shifted restlessly, ready to haul both boys out of the booth and toss them out onto the street—or _worse_ —but Len was transfixed.

“Barry, do you know where you are?” Cisco asked. “Do you know _when_ you are?”

A tight smile and swift nod replied. “This is Saints and Sinners, 2014. I can fix this, Cisco. You need to be careful. I’m working on the equation, but he might…h-he might…” he closed his eyes, teeth bared with his grimace, and clutched at the poof of his brunette hair.

“No, no, Barry, come on—”

“Right, blight, bright…so bright, so loud, why are they always so _loud_ ,” he raved once more like he was tormented and losing himself down a long, dark tunnel, before his eyes snapped up to look at empty space once more. “Rescuing you is exhausting. Sorry I went and grew up.”

A solemn sigh left Cisco, who clearly cared more for his friend than any danger he might be in, though he still glanced fearfully at Mick, and finally at Len with weary pleading. “Please, let us go. He can’t help you the way you think. He already told you plenty. Just let us _go_.”

Mick had a tendency to want to purge things that unnerved him, but what Len saw here were two scared _kids_ , one who couldn’t even grasp reality. He saw no benefit in letting them be casualties.

“Get out of here,” he said, “but I’d be expecting to see us again.” It wasn’t as if Len didn’t know that he could find the pair at STAR Labs.

“Barry,” Cisco scrambled out of the booth and grabbed for his friend’s arm, “come _on_.”

But Barry shook him away and turned to Len with another sunny smile. “I’ll be home for dinner later,” he said, as if speaking to a live-in girlfriend with full devotion, but what caught Len up short was the sudden touch of the kid’s hand over his beneath the table where the others couldn’t see, a gentle brush of his thumb and a light squeeze, then as he pulled away, a thrilling _shock_ almost like static electricity but _bone deep_ and far more pleasant, prevented Len from reacting any way other than staring mutely after them when the pair hurried off.

“The _fuck_ was that about?” Mick barked.

_“It’s only a matter of time.”_

_Time_ , it seemed, was a funny thing, because Len felt like some of that encounter had been déjà vu but he had no idea why.  

 

XXXXX

 

As Eobard watched from the shadows, he contemplated for 2.5 seconds the benefits of waiting for Snart and Rory to leave the bar and then killing them in the alley, but as perilous as the situation appeared, the fact that Snart seemed to be an anchor for Barry could prove as beneficial as it was dangerous.

Wally wasn’t fast enough. He could eventually get there, but maybe too late, while Barry already had the talent. If Snart was the key to unlocking him, Eobard couldn’t simply swipe that aside. He needed every possible option available. Besides, Snart was clearly dear to Barry, always had been, but even more so now, in this fresh timeline, and that could be a bargaining chip if this came to a head.

Those symbols also might mean more than Eobard had guessed, more than mere nonsense, the key to getting home maybe, the key to increasing his speed, the key to all of time and space—it could be anything.

So no, he wouldn’t kill Snart— _yet_. He’d continue to watch, like he did with a zip of lightning out of the bar, stopping behind a building out of view to see Cisco help Barry back into the van and speed off like he couldn’t leave fast enough.

Eobard was faster, of course, so fast that at times everything else slowed, and he would swear for a brief moment, Barry turned his head to look out the window right toward his hiding place.

What he needed was motivation and distraction. He needed the right players to fall into place so he had more time without drawing suspicion onto himself. And given all that lay ahead in the coming months, he should hardly have to do a thing but subtly move the chess pieces where necessary so that next time there would be no checkmate for Barry Allen.

 

XXXXX

 

Wells was going to kill him. Joe was going to kill him. Iris and Caitlin were going to kill him. Wally might forgive him, and Eddie might even defend him, but everyone else…

Cisco had screwed up bad, and now Captain Cold had enough info to figure out Wally’s identity. He and Barry were lucky to have gotten out of that bar alive, or Cisco was lucky to have gotten out without Cold trying to keep Barry like a magic eight ball. At least the thief seemed to understand it wouldn’t be that easy.

To calm his nerves, Cisco tried to focus on the good that had come of the encounter—Barry talking to him completely in real time, saying his name, knowing the right year and place and everything. But it had been so brief, too brief to understand what Barry wanted to tell him, and every time Cisco tried to coax his friend back to that mindset, nothing came of it.

“Come on, Barry, what equation are you working on? Is that what those symbols are?”

“When you enter a new environment, you got to case every inch of it. You never run in blind.”

“Yeah…try taking your own advice next time,” Cisco sighed. “I nearly had a heart attack back there!”

“Tell me something I don't know.”

Frowning at his friend, Cisco knew Barry wasn’t talking to _him_ , but sometimes he wondered. Regardless, he should be excited, because even if he couldn’t replicate what had happened to make Barry truly lucid, it had still happened, which meant there was a way to bring the real Barry back.

The other revelation, of course, was what Barry had _said_ while lucid. Maybe Cold and his scary friend weren’t so bad deep down, somehow. Mick, Barry had called him? Cisco needed to check into Leonard Snart’s known associates to figure out who the man was.

Barry had been right about other things, and it was Cold who’d been the trigger to pull him out of the Labs when he went to save that usher. Cisco could only hope it meant that this wasn’t as big a disaster as he feared, which maybe also meant he didn’t have to tell everyone right away. After all, he and Barry were both safe and made it back to STAR Labs unscathed. Why make everyone worry before there was anything to worry about?

Cold and his friend might be thieving, destructive, _murderous_ criminals, but people could change, right? Crazy as that sounded after sitting with the pair, Cisco wanted to believe in Barry. His friend hadn’t steered him wrong yet.

A while after they’d been back at the Labs, a general round of the usual suspects came through to visit. Wally, Iris, Eddie, and Joe, with Caitlin and Wells hard at work on various projects, though Cisco would swear Wells kept giving him that sixth sense expression like he knew something had happened, offering leading comments to prompt Cisco to come clean, though maybe he was just being paranoid.  

No, nobody knew anything, they couldn’t, and it would be fine in the end. Cisco just needed to relax and have faith in Barry. He could use this opportunity to reinvigorate his research into those symbols, look into Cold a bit more for safety’s sake and to see if Barry was right to trust the thief. There was no reason to panic.

After everyone had left and Cisco went to check on Barry in the Pipeline one last time before he too headed home for the day only to find the cell empty— _that_ was reason to panic.

“ _Shit_.”

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's love, clearly. ;-)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry always finds his way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Polaroid by Imagine Dragons - who mentioned that?!
> 
> I have been searching and searching for the comment where someone mentioned it, but I can't find it. Did I dream you? Regardless, it fit so well, I had to include it. Perfection. Thank you for the idea!
> 
> I am so tired but had to finish this. Love you all! You literally bring me to amazed tears with your response to this fic. It almost has me ready to push this one ahead of Matchmaker, which, honestly, I might keep swapping between the two and sometimes do two chapters in a row for one when it makes sense.

Len was a night owl by nature, partially out of desire and partially necessity. That didn’t mean he never made an early night of things.

Lisa had been bugging him to spend more time together now that he was back in town and planning to stick around for the foreseeable future, so given the current climate with Kid Flash and Barry “The Scarlet Speedster” Allen, he’d decided to make good on that promise and get her opinion on the matter, since Mick’s take had been to fry them all and save himself the grief.

He’d decided to give Mick space to play around with his new heat gun, but also so he could mull over the situation in calmer company. Lisa was intrigued and up for some fresh fun, though she had pouted at Len for not having a gun for her to even the load. He’d get her something nice to make up for it.

The point though was that while dinner with Lisa had been nice, a good chance to catch up and get an opposing opinion on how to proceed with this new game of meta humans, Len was exhausted and wanted to sleep on it. In his current safe house, with Lisa curled up on the sofa watching some syndicated TV show or another to lull herself to sleep, Len headed for his bedroom to call it a night.

Nearing the kitchen, however, he froze on full alert, his more than astute senses tingling. Someone was in there. Soft clanking and shuffling gave away the intruder that Len could tell was _not_ Mick, and Lisa was behind him.

Len backed up for the table where he’d placed the cold gun case, carefully removing it as he kept his ears attuned to the kitchen. Someone was lurking about alright, but he didn’t want to worry Lisa unless he was certain.

Inching forward, gun close to his chest as he moved in—closer, _closer_ —he finally spun in front of the doorway poised to fire.

“ _Barry?_ ” Len’s arm dropped in surprise.

Indeed, Barry Allen was making a sandwich in his safe house kitchen.

How the hell had he found him?

Back in STAR Labs sweats, barefoot, looking comfortable and ready for bed, Barry peered over his shoulder at Len with a warm smile. “Want one? Sorry I’m so late. Patrol took forever tonight.”

Patrol? Len had to remind himself that Barry was likely not speaking of present day or aware of where he was, but then the last thing he’d said to Len had been, _“I’ll be home for dinner later.”_

Aiming his weapon once more but unsure of the need to charge it, Len kept the kid in his sights as he stalked cautiously into the room. Barry was a speedster, after all, dangerous and unpredictable. “Want to tell me what you’re doing here, kid? And _how_ you found me?”

“What's funny,” Barry looked right at the cold gun without flinching, “is I finally figured out your secret.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?”

“You'd do anything to protect your sister.”

Len reared up taller, aiming the gun more squarely. “Are you _threatening—_ ”

“The thing is, I am fast enough to just hug you without you knowing, so you may as well let me.”

“What?” Edging back a step, Len feared Barry might actually _attempt_ a lightning fast hug, but he was still preoccupied with the threat against his sister.

“Lisa’s safe,” Barry said as if plucking the thought from his mind. “I guess I've just gotten a little caught up with being able to help people, you know. It feels good.” He kept on making his sandwich, innocent as he pleased.

He hardly made sense, Len didn’t know what to think, but against his usual snap-judgment to distrust anyone who wasn’t Mick or Lisa, he didn’t believe Barry meant him any harm. This kid was a safe to be cracked not an enemy to overcome.

“Way I hear it,” Len lowered his weapon and set it on the counter, “Kid Flash is doing all the heavy lifting. So, what’s your story… _Scarlet_? Why the scrambled mind?”

Another of those brilliant smiles flashed across Barry’s face before he took a bite of his heaping sandwich with every possible topping from the safe house fridge piled high, which looked _delicious_ if a little excessive for a late-night snack. After he swallowed, he stared forward at the cabinets.

“I don't know anything anymore, especially who I can and can't trust.”

“That explains why you’re here,” Len said, “but not how. You said you wanted to help me?”

“I also said I would do whatever it takes to save you. That hasn't changed.”

“Okay then.” Len waited for elaboration, but Barry took another bite. When he kept on eating instead of explaining further, Len tried to catch his attention with a snap of his fingers in front of Barry’s face. “ _Hey_. Barry, stop. Look at me. _Barry_ ,” he grabbed the kid’s wrist before he could pick up the sandwich again.

A sharp intake of breath responded to the contact, and Barry’s eyes cleared like waking from a bad dream. He turned to Len with such solemn, intense emotion, Len couldn’t react fast enough, couldn’t think, could move, could only shudder when Barry lifted a hand to his face like he might cry at the sight of him.

“Len, I’m so sorry.” He pulled him close with a tug at his neck, his other arm wrapping around Len’s shoulder, not _lightning_ fast, just determined and so impossibly bold that Len forgot to pull away.

The warmth of Barry stung him…

“I never wanted you to die a hero.”

…and sent a shiver chasing the heat up his spine.

This kid was dangerous indeed. If he could really see the future, what depth of failure was he setting Len up for?

“I’m here now,” Len said, pushing at Barry gently to dislodge him, surprised at the lacking revulsion in his gut from the unexpected touch, but not wanting to encourage it either. “How do I die, Barry? When?”

“We have time.”

“How _soon_?”

“I won’t let it happen,” Barry insisted, as if daring the universe to deny him. “No matter what. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you or Lisa or Mick. The worst I’ve ever been is how I react to losing those I love.” He glanced down, but Len knew his focus was clear in that moment, and when his eyes flicked up again, he looked at Len like they’d known each other for _years_ and had been through Hell and back together. “It can be different now, I see it. We’ll be so happy, _everyone_. This time, I’m going to save all of you.”

“This time…” Len repeated. “A riddle because you can see the future? Or because you’ve already been there? Already been _here_?” He had mentioned time travel, is that what this was? Something whispered at the back of Len’s mind that he was on the right track, impossible as it seemed.

Barry cringed and held his head before asking, “Have you sent the RSVP for Hartley’s wedding yet? I think he might be the embodiment of Bridezilla. More so than Iris, and she had _binders_. Multiple.”

“And you’re gone again,” Len said, waving a hand at Barry, but he reached to reclaim his sandwich as if he didn’t notice. He had to use both hands to lift it, but once it was small enough to manage with just one, his free hand fidgeted like it was using an invisible writing tool.

Remembering the fry Barry painted with earlier, Len dug through a nearby drawer for a marker and placed it in Barry’s hand. Immediately, the boy began drawing on the counter while he ate, similar but varied circular symbols. Once he’d finished eating, he set to work faster, sometimes across, sometimes down, sometimes starting in an entirely new spot. Len couldn’t make any sense of it, yet he felt…

Something about those symbols was familiar.

“What the _hell_ , Lenny? Who’s he?”

Snapping his attention to the door, Len found his sister looking rumpled from dozing on the sofa, holding an empty glass she'd likely been about to refill.

Barry didn’t look at her, didn’t even miss a beat. “Sorry, it took a couple tries to get here. This is my friend, Cisco.”

“Uh what?” Lisa entered fully, running a hand through her hair to fluff it now that they had company.

“This would be Barry,” Len fanned his hand to encompass the boy, who was bent over to better reach the furthest open spaces on the counter, which even in sweatpants was a pleasant view, something Lisa took note of quickly.

“Your head-case, huh? Didn’t realize you were having a sleepover.”

To Len’s surprise, the kid started singing.

 _I am a head case_  
I am the color of boom  
That's never arriving  
And you are the opera  
Always on time and in tune

He continued at a quiet hum.

“I have no idea how he found me or where he came from,” Len said, leaning back against the counter to better watch Barry and Lisa at the same time. “Well, I can assume he _came_ from STAR Labs. Given he’s a speedster, he could get here in minutes, maybe less. _Cisco_ , however, is who we need to call to pick him up.”

“You can’t just tell him to scram?” Lisa filled her glass at the sink, maintaining an eagle eye on Barry like she’d been taught, but trusting Len's casual assessment of the situation.

“Do you think we should have the holiday party at your place this year or ours?” Barry asked Lisa directly, then stared forward at nothing before diving back into his drawing. “No, Dad, Mom should open _her_ present next.”

Len caught Lisa's startled gaze, with Barry boxed between them. “Communication can prove difficult.”

“So you’re going to invite another stranger to our safe house?” Lisa asked.

“Neutral ground, Lise, one interloper is enough. Barry,” Len took out his cell phone and swiped to unlock it while trying to catch the kid's eye, “we should invite Cisco for dinner, don’t you think? What’s his number again?” He held the phone out, and Barry took it with his free hand without pausing in his scrawling.

Moments later, ‘Cisco’ had been entered and the number was already dialing. Maybe Len was getting the hang of this.

“Thank you,” he brought the phone to his ear, but while it rang, Barry turned to him, the immediate counter space covered now with doodles, and those green eyes seemed to glow.

“Wally burns so bright, he dims the stars, but you keep them quiet, riot, try it,” he dug his palm into his temple, “just try it once, Joe, a little spice won’t kill you,” and was gone just as quickly as before.

Lisa’s amusement slipped into silent sympathy, brow pinched and lips pursed, which was its own sort of danger—his sister's genuine concern. He couldn’t tell her that the real concern might be for _him_ if Barry was right about his impending doom. Len needed leverage to stay ahead of this, but luckily, he already had it.

“Um…hello?” the other line finally picked up, and Len returned to the matter at hand.

“Misplace something, Cisco?”

 

XXXXX

 

Somewhere after the first block, Eobard lost track of Barry. The boy was far too fast when he wanted to be, which was _good_ and terrible and worrying. But once Eobard went back to the Labs to regroup, he found Cisco tearing an impressive path through the building to figure out where Barry had gone, only to eventually answer his phone.

“He’s with _you_? Please just…thanks for calling. Where are you? No, I guess I wouldn’t expect you to just tell me that, but what— Yeah, yeah, I can meet you there. Right now? Absolutely right now. _Thank you_. Yeah, well, sort of expected that from a criminal, whatever, I don’t even care, I just want my friend back.”

Eobard had been fairly certain Barry would go to Snart after the events earlier that day, which was why he’d unlocked the cell and stood back to see what would happen. As everything was falling into place, all he had to do now was keep a close eye on things and be patient.

Tailing Cisco was far easier than tailing Barry, and later, he could tail Snart and find out exactly where all the pieces on the chess board spent their nights.

 

XXXXX

 

This Barry Allen kid was a doll. Lisa might have been smitten if he was running on all cylinders. As it stood, she felt an extreme compulsion to protect the sweet, confused boy, who for some odd reason had fixated on her mess of a brother and could touch him and snuggle close, only causing Len to sigh and accept it the way it had taken him thirty years to get with Mick. He even lent him shoes.

Barry was special, and not only because he was _fast_. Not that Lisa had seen anything to prove that anyway, he’d mostly only eaten, drawn weird symbols everywhere he could reach, and chattered nonsense. But there was this light in him that disarmed Len, somewhere deep in his muscles and in his usually firmer mask besides also getting him to set aside the cold gun.

He had a lovely voice too, this Barry. Kept humming ever since he’d taken off earlier from Lisa’s unintentional prompt.

 _All my life_  
I've been living in the fast lane  
Can't slow down  
I'm a rollin' freight train  
One more time  
Gotta start all over  
Can't slow down  
I'm a lone red rover

“Yeah, cutie? That so? _Prove_ it. Steal me a piece of pie.” She gestured from their booth to the counter of the diner where a covered platter displayed leftover slices for the day. It wasn’t the Motor Car, but that place was more for nostalgia, while this dive beat it ten to one when it came to baked goods.

“Lise—” Len chided, but there was a whoosh and rustle of her hair, and before she knew it, a slice of pie sat in front of her on a plate, fork included even though all they’d ordered was coffee.

“How’d he know my fav—”

“Of course I know blueberry is Lisa’s favorite, Len,” Barry said before she could finish, “but that doesn’t mean I’m giving her my grandmother’s recipe. Tell her I can make it for her any time she wants.”

He spoke to Len but wasn’t really speaking to him in present time, or something like that— _trippy_. But he was sweet, soft-spoken, and clearly troubled, meta human or otherwise. Lisa wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and pet his floof of brunette hair like a puppy.

“Honey, if you bake for me,” she dug into the slice of pie, “we are friends for life.”

Len had acquired a child’s placemat for Barry to allow him to draw, but even using crayons now, he still formed the same symbols over and over again like an alien language.

Or at least one hand drew, the other popped up from his lap to slap a $5 on the table.

“Where did you get—” Len started to exclaim, then immediately felt for his wallet, which he couldn’t find, only for Barry to slap that onto the table too.

Lisa snorted at Len’s horrified expression. No one had ever pick-pocketed _him_. “Oh he’s a keeper, Lenny. I think that fiver means we don’t get to steal the pie.”

“Then you _pay_ for it,” he snagged the bill back to replace it in his wallet, shoving it into his pocket away from Barry. As he did, his head perked up with a stronger bearing, more—well, Lisa would have said _threatening_ toward Barry like he wanted to intimidate whoever had walked in, but Lisa didn’t buy any sort of threat Len might make against the kid, he was smitten in ways she couldn’t even dream, even if Barry was in disarray.

And speaking of smitten…

“ _Barry_ , what are you trying to do to me?” a far too adorable young man of slighter stature but with gorgeous hair and dark dreamy eyes sat down beside her. Once he noticed who was with him, he started with a malformed gape. “You’re not the other guy. Definitely less big, burly, and terrifying.”

“I could say the same about you, sweetie.” Thank goodness she’d touched up her makeup before they left.

“This is my sister,” Len introduced them. “Lisa, Cisco. Cisco, Lisa.”

“ _Sister_?” Cisco nearly choked, studying her before thinking better of getting too close after a glance at Len. “Same dreamy eyes, I guess…”

“Oh really?” Len raised an eyebrow.

“Stick to your own Snart,” Barry said, hunched over his placemat, which he’d flipped over at some point, though Lisa couldn’t see what he was drawing anymore. She almost pegged the boy for jealous after that comment.

“I tend to say things that can almost always be ignored.” Cisco looked ready to bolt as soon as he was able, but it didn’t go unnoticed that Len had placed Barry on the _inside_ of the booth beside him. “Thank you for finding Barry. We’re gonna…go now.”

“Ah ah ah,” Len stayed planted in place. “Just like that? Like I said on the phone, Cisco, I’m not one for charity work.”

The young man puffed a breath of air between his lovely lips. “What do you want, Cold?”

“Another gun.”

“ _Another_?”

“I have one. My _burly_ friend does as well.”

“The heat gun,” Cisco said, as if remembering the ‘fire sale’ Len had gotten his toys at, which included more than one fun trinket.

“Now my sister needs a weapon. Something that suits her personality.”

“Porous,” Barry said, which made Lisa frown.  

“Pardon, sweetie?”

“Pyrite,” he said, as if that explained it. “Fool’s gold. With some adjustments so people who get hit can still breathe and the damage can be reversed.” He handed over his placemat, pushing it to the center of the table toward Cisco. It wasn’t covered in symbols but in the schematics for a gun.

“Apparently, we don’t need you, Cisco,” Len smirked.  

“Speak for yourself, Lenny.” Lisa tilted the picture to better see it, absolutely in love with the delicate design. “After all, someone still needs to build this for me. How’d you end up playing caretaker?” she batted her eyes at Cisco, hoping she came off sweet more than how Len tried to be dominating. Cisco was just worried about his friend, after all, an engineer at STAR Labs Len had said.

Smart was sexy. Sweet and nurturing even more so.

“His family thought we could help him out of his coma,” Cisco said, “but when he woke up, he was like _this_. He’s still my friend, even if he’s scattered. Did he say anything lucid to you this time?” he leaned across the table suddenly, no longer fearful of Len in his urgency.

The way Len’s lips thinned said Barry _had_. “Nothing I feel like sharing.”  

“Cold, this is serious.”

 _“Deadly_ , I’m sure.” Len’s eyes strayed to the table, which meant he was keeping something to himself, the jerk. “Said he wanted to save everyone ‘this time’, like maybe he’d done all this before.”

“I’ve wondered that sometimes too,” Cisco said. “Look, the truth is, for whatever reason, you’re the first thing that’s made a lasting impact on him. He might come looking for you again, and I think it could be a _good_ thing. Please, just…don’t hurt him. If he shows up, try to talk to him, see if you can get through to him, then call me. If you promise to do that…I’ll make the gun.”

“And possibly other tasks in the future?” Len said.

“Come on, Cold, I’m not making more weapons after this. I’m only agreeing at all because apparently Barry wants me to.” Kudos to the boy for standing up to Len a little. Few people ever dared, and bold was sexy too.

“What exactly does playing nice get me?” Len growled across the table.

“You saying that between Barry’s rambling and your own wits, you don’t know everything you ever wanted to know about Team Kid Flash?”

“I want _more_.”

“No killing,” Barry interjected, like he was a normal part of the conversation.

“No killing, Barry, we can agree on that,” Len said, before returning to Cisco diplomatically. “You don’t want your other friends to know about this, I take it. Otherwise, Kid Flash would be here too. I can keep mum, keep you on _speed_ -dial if Barry attempts future visits, and return him safely, but besides a gun for Lisa...I want access to Kid Flash’s comms.”

“ _What_?” Cisco balked.

“My own personal police scanner, as it were, specific to the city’s vigilante.”

The slouch to Cisco's posture betrayed how responsible he felt for both Flashes. “Look, not that I think you’ll care, but Kid Flash really is a _kid_. He’s nineteen. He just happened to get superpowers and wants to help people.”

 _Nineteen_? Jesus. Not that Lisa hadn’t been well versed in B &E's and hot wiring cars by then.

“I have no intention of hurting your hero,” Len said. “If I’d wanted that, I could have killed him at the train station.”

“I’m tired, Len,” Barry ignored the others, hands wrapping possessively around Len’s arm and leaning into his body as if they were alone, “can we go to bed now?”

It was hard to tell who reacted more to that—Len, who tensed, uncharacteristically tongue-tied, or Cisco, who sputtered, “You are going back to your _own_ bed, Barry,” like a reprimanding father.

Barry sighed but kept his eyes on Len, “Okay. I’ll make dinner next time, I promise,” and kissed him on the cheek just off the side of his mouth.

Len’s response was the very opposite of what Lisa would have expected with someone he barely knew, lost in his head and almost flushing with color, like this strange connection between him and Barry went both ways.

“Can’t control what he does, totally not worth killing us over,” Cisco said with a forced and continuous laugh, urging Barry out of the booth, which Len mechanically allowed to let him pass, and then the two were off, Cisco's dark eyes landing on Lisa one last time as he spouted, “bye!”

Barry appeared at the table again a second later. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Uh, sure, honey. Any time.” Lisa was certain she hadn’t said anything that could be taken as _advice_ , but there was Cisco again to drag him away. “Be seeing you! And looking forward to it.”

“Not a _word_ ,” Len said once they were gone, since there _was_ color in his cheeks, “and I won't say any either.”

Spoilsport. Just because Cisco was _cute_. “Fine. Then I guess you can't say no to me using Cisco’s number I took from your phone.”

Len’s smirk turned into a glower, but he eventually sat forward, all business. “Still in?”

“Times ten, Lenny. But what are you thinking with all this?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’m thinking _big_ , sis. Real big.”

Lisa thought maybe he hadn’t accepted just _how_ big this could get if Barry was a legit oracle and meant all of his sweet, open affection, but she wasn’t about to spoil the surprise if Len was oblivious.

That would hardly be any fun.

 

XXXXX

 

The ride back to STAR Labs was filled with the usual ramblings, but Barry also had a song in his head that he kept humming. Every so often the tune would change from what Cisco thought he recognized from the radio to something else, but the only words he could make out were…

_I am meant to be wherever you are next to me_

“Dude, if you hook up with Cold someday, that is just…weird,” Cisco said while they were sneaking back to the Pipeline. “Do you?”

“Today just proved what I've always known,” Barry said, going into his cell happily since it had been wiped clean as always for a new span of drawings, and his marker was waiting for him. “There's good in you, Snart.”

Cisco groaned. “Okay, man, I trust you. Even if you are cuckoo.”

After shutting Barry in for the night, which he realized might be useless at this point, since he still didn’t know how Barry got out in the first place, he set to work erasing the video footage of Barry’s escape. He didn’t want any of the others finding out and worrying, or asking questions that could lead them to finding out Cisco had made a deal with _Captain Cold_ that was basically straight-up betrayal—but was it, if it’s what Barry wanted him to do?

Cisco was probably crazy, the blind following the blind and all that, but it didn’t change that he felt in his gut he was doing the right thing. Even if the current thing was making another gun for a criminal.

He looked over the footage closely one more time before deleting it, but all he saw before Barry got up and exited the cell was…huh. Lightning? Just a momentary spark, maybe nothing, but it hadn’t been yellow like Barry and Wally’s lightning, it was _red_.

Too exhausted to worry about it, Cisco saved a copy before deleting the footage completely. Maybe red lightning was another of Barry’s abilities that was telekinetic or allowed him to pick locks, or maybe it was just a trick of the light, but for now it was a problem for another day.

Like Cold having a hot evil sister.

 

XXXXX

 

Joe thought Barry had cracked ages ago when he first got a look at the conspiracy theorist level diagram on the back of his corkboard at the precinct, but while he dismissed Barry’s never-wavering belief in his father’s innocence for years, even while Barry was in the coma, it had taken Barry waking up like a half-empty shell for Joe to flip that board over one day and start working the angles his son saw so clearly.

After all, Barry’s hypothesis all rested on the _man in yellow_ and sparks of impossible light, with impossible speed, _impossible_ that little Barry had been whisked so far away from the scene—only all of that _was_ possible for someone like Barry or Wally. Ever since realizing that, Joe hadn’t been able to shake that maybe Barry had been right.

If he was, if Joe could prove it, if he could finally solve this and get Henry out of jail, maybe that would be enough to wake the real Barry and bring him back to them. If it was just the wild goose chase Joe had feared all these years, well, then at least it gave him something to focus on that was a better escape than a bottle. His children needed him, and this was one way he could help.

Barry had done all the heavy lifting anyway, but he knew there was something missing, not just lacking evidence, but a piece of the puzzle that should be there. He almost wondered if it would be worth it to go back to the house, take another look at the scene, see if anything could be recovered to shed new light on what happened that night.

“Joe? What _is_ all that?”

 _Damn_.

For weeks, Joe had been so careful. Maybe it was the lack of coffee today, maybe he was just that tired with or without caffeine worrying over his kids, but he hadn’t thought to lock the door today while he looked over the corkboard, and Eddie had come in and caught him.

“Is this the Nora Allen murder?” he approached at a swift pace, scanning the articles and post-it notes placed across the board. “Is this Barry’s work? What are you—”

“Enough,” Joe cut him off. “You never saw this. It’s just something I need to do. For Barry.”

“ _Barry_ is on his way up here,” Eddie said in a hush, “with _Iris_ , remember? She’s bringing him through the precinct for another outing.”  

Shit, that was today? “How much time—” but Joe could already hear voices. With a raised eyebrow, he indicated that it was in Eddie’s best interest to help him right now, and together, they flipped the corkboard over before Iris and Barry entered.

“Dad! You _are_ up here,” Iris said, looking a little flushed and out of breath like Barry had speed-walked the whole way—normal human speed at least. He immediately smiled brightly like he’d found his second—or maybe third now—home and started moving about the room, looking everything over, most of which was covered in dust. “Do you come to Barry’s lab often? Why is no one using it?”

“Because someone _will_ be using it,” Joe said, avoiding the rest of the question, which wasn’t difficult since Barry was running his hands over surfaces like a little boy, lost in his own world. “Eventually.”

Iris’s downturned brows were always more than Joe could weather alone. “I can’t believe Singh lets you get away with this,” she said. “This room is huge.”

“They got a whole other lab for forensic work better than this. _This_ room is a hazard. Practically a lightning rod.”

“Not funny, Dad,” Iris frowned.  

“No. It’s not,” Joe said, unable to avoid looking up at the skylight that in some ways was the cause of all this.

While not a welcome topic, it would have proved the perfect distraction if Barry hadn’t moved his exploring to the corkboard right then and, against Eddie’s best efforts to prevent the inevitable, flipped the board the other way around.

“What—” Iris gaped when she saw it.

“You got this, Joe,” Barry said with a pleased smile, very carefully moving a few small pieces into different alignment. Then he glanced over his shoulder. “About what I said about you not being my father…”

“What?” Joe couldn’t stop the spike of pain that ripped through his chest. “Barr, you never said—”

“You're right. You're not. You're just the man who kept me fed and in clothes. Who sat beside my bed at night until I fell asleep because I was afraid of the dark. Helped me with my homework. You taught me how to drive and shave. And you dropped me off at college. Sounds a lot like a dad to me.” Barry smiled, somehow the same smile he’d had the first time he finally smiled for real in Joe’s home, which had taken far too long, to be honest, for such a young boy, but it had been so worth it to finally see.

That broken boy, who’d lost so much, yet believed so strongly in the father blamed for his mother’s death.

Was he trying to tell Joe that it was okay, that he’d never lose him as a son even if he got his real father back, that really, Barry had two fathers, or was Joe just projecting what he wanted to hear because he wanted Barry’s nonsense to mean something?

Turning back to the corkboard, Barry’s hand ghosted over an image of his mother. “How can someone ever be at peace with letting his mother die... Deciding that his life was more valuable than hers?”

“ _Barry_.” Eddie gripped his elbow to pull him back, to show support.

Iris was there too, at Barry’s other side, trying to intercept a potential meltdown, because strong emotions had a tendency to set him off. It’s one of the reasons they had to take things slow, show Barry around the precinct on a good day, sure, but while avoiding interacting with too many familiar faces, like Singh, when there was no telling what Barry might say or when an errant spark of lightning might surface.

“Hey,” Barry said to Iris, “this is your big article. I'm not gonna rush through it. I'm just kidding. I read it five times already.”

She laughed, but it was such a sad, pitiable laugh, and Joe was so damn sick of that being the only way any of them could laugh around Barry.

“Dad,” Iris said, when Eddie brought Barry over to the window to look out from his old, familiar view, talking animatedly and so patiently with Barry about everything they could see, “do you believe him now? About Henry? Then what about taking Barry to see him?”

“No.” This was why Joe hadn’t wanted to tell her. “I’m not there yet, alright? I’m not ready for that. I don’t know if Barry is either.”

She turned to look at Barry and Eddie who, without the strange, disjointed dialogue, could have been just two young men, _friends_ , looking out at their city, and when her expression crumbled like she might cry despite striving so hard to stay strong, she reached for Joe’s hand and squeezed it.

“If he’s really seeing the future, Dad, if that’s possible, if this isn’t some cruel joke giving us false hope, then maybe seeing Henry could help. Barry’s his son, too, you know.”

Of course Joe knew that, much as it sometimes stung in foolish ways, because even now that he had Wally in his life, the one thing that would never change was that Barry was his son, his boy, his _boy_. He couldn’t bear to let Barry—or himself—down if he was wrong about this.

“Once I have a real lead,” he said, squeezing her hand back before he let go, “ _if_ I find anything, then we’ll take Barry to see Henry.”

 

XXXXX

 

That night, while Barry was safely back at the Labs, miming _bowling_ for whatever reason that Eobard could not explain, Cisco called Wally and the rest of them into the Cortex because a bomb had gone off at 8 th and Pass.

Things were moving forward, but Eobard stood on a tightrope, always leaning one way or another, never sure which direction he might fall—onto safe padding or into the shark tank.

If he fell the wrong way, he planned to take everyone down with him.

 

TBC....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good night!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Barry scares even those closest to him, but he believes in the cause and the future he sees so clearly that only one other person can even begin to grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't sleep last night, insomnia acting up, so I am exhausted right now, but I had to get this chapter done, since my next couple days are busy. 
> 
> Wow, just...wow, you guys, really, you're making me fall in love with this fandom all over again, every comment, every reaction, I just...THANK YOU.

Super soldiers. Bombs. The Army taking over a local police case. Caitlin was just relieved that after the first explosion, once they calculated the distance Wally needed to start from to run up the side of the building, he’d been able to save the falling window cleaner.

All the case files had quickly been taken by the meddling General Eiling the next day, but once Caitlin and the team were gathered at STAR Labs to discuss it, _Barry_ produced the files from nowhere, though when he’d left the Labs or how he’d gotten his hands on them remained a mystery.

Between Wells admitting his connection to Eiling’s experiments and the information Barry provided, they had all they needed to track the person responsible for the explosions.

Bette San Souci.

Before Wally went to intercept the former disarmament specialist, Barry warned him, “Don’t let her touch you, but she doesn’t _mean_ it. Sometimes the bad guys hide in plain sight and the heroes are the ones running.”

Barry was right, of course, like always. Wally got Bette back to the Labs without incident and they learned everything they needed from the woman who blamed Eiling for what happened to her.

They provided gloves since her meta abilities triggered a reaction through touch that eventually exploded like a bomb, no ordinance required, and she agreed to let them test her in the hopes they might find a way to turn her powers off.

“Maybe off and _on_ again?” Cisco said. “Coz we could really use some extra metas out there who aren’t psycho killers… _Plastique_.”

Always naming everyone, but Bette, whose dangerous powers were something she only wanted to use against those who deserved it, didn’t seem to mind being accepted into the group.

Caitlin didn’t mind either, not as much as she expected. It was easier to trust someone that Barry seemed so comfortable around, like he was their meta human litmus test, even when Wells remained skeptical that Bette belonged.

“We should be worried about the General,” he said. “If he tracks Miss San Souci here or tries to make trouble for us, he might prove a difficult man to get rid of.”

Caitlin was checking Bette’s vitals—carefully, always carefully—while Barry kept vibrating through the glass between the med room and Cortex, much to Wally’s delight, but try as he might, the younger speedster couldn't go fast enough to mimic him.

It was remarkable how effective Barry was as a teacher even without words or direct focus, something Caitlin couldn’t help but notice seemed to wound Wells’s pride a little, not that he showed it openly.

Eventually, despite Barry’s distracted attention and occasional utterance of words that made no sense to the moment, he grabbed Wally’s shoulders, started vibrating to get them in synch with one another, and phased both of them into the med room.

“Did you _see_ that?” Wally said in barely contained joy, whirling about to face Barry like a little boy awed by everything his older brother did. “That was _dope_ , man. Freaking amazing! I think I get the frequency now and can do it on my own.”

Caitlin shared an amused expression with Bette after informing her that they were done for the day. It was easier to smile around Barry, often surprising Caitlin _how_ easy, when for so long there hadn’t been much to smile about.

Wells, however, scrunched his brow in irritation.

“Sorry, Dr. Wells, we’re listening,” Caitlin said, “there have just been so many other things to focus on. We understand that the safety of the people here matter more than anything else, even before advancing their abilities.”

“I do want to control my powers without having to wear these someday,” Bette said as she slipped on her gloves.

Wally and Barry were less easily brought back to the conversation, especially when Wally finally succeeded at phasing through the wall with a blur of motion, almost as if he’d gone invisible only to reappear with an animated shout.

“I did it! Dr. Wells, did you see that? I can’t believe I did it!” He glomped Barry with a jubilant hug, thanking him without words, which was often the best way.

Barry always accepted affection from friends and family with enthusiastic reciprocation, a small sign that he was still in there no matter how disjointed his words.

Wells sighed, wheeling his chair between Bette and Caitlin near the med bed and Barry and Wally by the door. “Mr. West—” he began in exasperation, but Barry spoke first.

“If you would rather have given these powers to somebody else, why did you give them to me?”

A cold rigidity washed through Wells. “I did not have control over who was affected by the Particle Accelerator, Mr. Allen.”

“You don't have to admit it to me,” Barry stepped closer to him, “but there's a part of you that knows you don't have to let your past define you. A part of you that really wants to be more than just a criminal.”

“ _Barry_ ,” Caitlin said, realizing that he was elsewhere, in some other time again, thinking he was speaking to someone completely different. He had to be.

“I wish we could have met sooner. I wish I could have lived up to everything you hoped for, before I let you down and you started _hating_ me.” The way Barry placed his hands on the arms of the wheelchair made it seem like he did know who he was talking to, but he couldn’t possibly. “I never stopped thinking of you like a father, bother, _smother_.” He pulled up with a clutch at his head. “They’re so loud when I’m near you, can’t you hear them? I could throw him three centuries from now. He'll always be a part of me.” Then he moved around Wells’s wheelchair to the smaller whiteboard Caitlin used for notes.

Taking to the empty space with a nearby marker, Barry began his usual scribbling that Cisco had yet to decipher. He was in his workshop now trying out another algorithm, but it seemed like a hopeless cause at this point.

Only Barry and his ardent riddles could leave Wells looking so spooked and speechless, maybe because he blamed himself for Barry being in that state, and the only way he could work past his guilt was by pouring his life’s work into Wally.

“I appreciate, Mr. West,” Wells rolled to Wally’s side now that he had shaken off Barry’s attention, “that you remember the key to unlocking your abilities is in going _faster_ , which you certainly proved today with your perseverance at phasing, but I also caution you not to get ahead of yourself.”

Wally’s mirth fell away as Wells yanked him back to Earth. “I managed that, Dr. Wells, because _Barry_ showed me how. It wasn’t only perseverance.”

“Mr. Allen’s skills are invaluable, of course, just as yours are,” Wells said, “just as we hope Miss San Souci’s will be as well. All I meant was that we must be vigilante of our enemies in the wings, General Eiling included.”

“I don’t think you gotta worry about him anymore,” Joe’s voice preceded his entrance into the med room, his eyes dark from lack of sleep, which was common enough lately, though his expression seemed lighter for once. “His men backed off. Seems Eiling up and left, they don’t even know where. ‘Bout time we got some good news.”

“What?” Wells said in honest surprise.

“He won’t be a problem anymore,” Barry said from across the room, not straying from his careful, constant work.

“Barry?” Caitlin questioned, startled at the thought of this being one of his lucid moments. “Do you know what happened to the General?”

“It’s like Felicity said,” he spun around to look at Bette, “don't think of it as lying. Think of it as protecting her from getting hurt with a fib.”

“Barry…?” Wally said, as all of them exchanged alarmed glances.

“I just I think that maybe if he doesn't want to talk to you about his work, it's probably because he wants to keep you in the light.”

“ _Barry_ ,” Joe pushed when Barry’s continued ramblings did not make any of them feel better, “what did you do?”

The clouds cleared from Barry’s eyes long enough for him to look at Joe directly. “It’s okay. I’ll never be like _him_. I just did what I had to.”

They all looked at each other like they weren’t sure what to think, but Bette walked over to Barry and touched his shoulder—with her gloves on, though maybe someday, she could touch people and things again without worrying about hurting someone.

“Barry, whatever you did or didn’t do, if Eiling’s out of the picture now…thank you.”

Barry smiled at her as blindingly as ever. “Sometimes great possibilities are right in front of us,” he said, then turned around once more to return to his symbols.

With a man like Eiling, if Barry _had_ done something, it was hard to have sympathy, yet it brought up so many questions. Had Barry left the Labs again? When? _How_? What was he capable of even when all of them were watching him every moment he wasn’t locked up?

Caitlin saw the way Wally shrugged innocence, not wanting to believe anything terrible about his brother, while Joe looked that much more tired and worn down, unable to shoulder more than the burdens he already carried, and Wells became that stone wall he defaulted to so easily.

Only Bette smiled, but if Caitlin had to choose one of those spectrums of reactions as her own, she chose _Plastique_ ’s. Until Barry proved to be a threat—at least to anyone who didn’t deserve it—the good they could accomplish together was all that mattered.

 

XXXXX

 

That smell again. Like copper. Like a storm.

Like _Father_.

Grodd rumbled low in response to the new arrival, and the man in the corner with him flinched. He hadn’t hurt the human—yet. He’d merely invaded his thoughts to keep him docile, while replaying images of what had been done to him that Father and Caitlin would never have agreed to. He wanted to break this _General_ further, make him suffer, make him hurt as Grodd had hurt, but the one like Father who'd brought the man made him promise he would wait.

Now he came again, appearing in the sewers where Grodd hid, so quickly that Grodd barely felt the press of his mind until he was there. It was not a mind Grodd could invade like the others. It stung to press forward and look inside because there was so _much_ , an endless stream of memory and voices. Even Grodd might lose himself in that mind, so he refrained and listened instead, mainly in the beginning because the young man was so much like Father.

 _What do you want now…Brother?_ Grodd thought into his mind.

 _Barry_ , came the response, but also _Flash_ and _Scarlet_ and _Savitar_ and on and on it went, confusing that one man should have so many names, and so _Brother_ he became, since that was the sense that filled Grodd when he looked at him.

“That’s what mercy gets you,” Brother said, his face calm and sometimes vacant, like a clever predator but one that did not wish to strike, something Grodd had yet to understand.

 _Mercy? For him?_ He glared at the General, huddled and weak against the sewer wall. _For humans?_

“For you,” Brother said.

He didn’t always make sense with his words, but his intent was clear, as though he couldn’t hide it within the chaos of his mind. He wished Grodd no harm, though his power was great, more palpable than Father’s, more absolute, only with kindness and certainty that reminded Grodd of Caitlin, who he hoped one day to see again in lieu of Father’s promises.

Without words, Brother told him to keep this man a while longer, but to lessen the extent of his torture, so he learned rather than suffered. So he knew what awaited him if he ever came back once they released him to his people.

It seemed foolish, when surely killing him or breaking his mind entirely would be more effective, but Grodd felt compelled to listen as though perhaps _his_ mind was the one being invaded, though he could sense no ill-intent.

So he grunted veiled approval, and when Brother produced food for him, clean water, materials to make a proper nest where he might be more comfortable until the time was right—for he assured Grodd there would be a time when he could return home and Caitlin would help him find his place—he felt comradery and believed Brother to be true to his name.

Perhaps Brother would turn out to be the liar, and Grodd was too powerless to tell the difference, but he had not gained careful, calculating thought to waste it and not weigh his options.

 _For now, Brother,_ he thought with a grateful nod, _I will listen._

 

XXXXX

 

Wally had always wanted a brother. A sister. A _father_. Now he had it all, but his mother’s time grew shorter. If one day soon he had to lose her, then he would do everything in his power to make sure he never lost anyone else.

Some days that meant having faith in Barry even at his strangest and scariest. Most of the others put the same faith in Barry. It felt right. It felt like each day, _one_ day, soon, Wally hoped, would be the moment Barry finally woke up and explained what all this was about.

“Hey, Barr, what classes did you take sophomore year?” Wally asked.

Simple, to-the-point questions almost always garnered a straight answer, but a real conversation quickly dissolved. Regardless, every day Wally tried.

“I don’t know if I should plan for grad school or not. What do you think?”

Today, Barry was especially disjointed. Or maybe it was because it was later in the day. He was often more focused in the morning.

“Read it to me again, Mom. How does the dinosaur get home?” Barry said, voice small and eyes wide as he and Wally took a break after running through the Accelerator, lying on the floor looking up at the slowly setting sun through the glass ceiling above them.

“ _The Runaway Dinosaur_?” Wally said, swallowing down his frustration.

“It’s my favorite! He comes home to his family in the end.”

Wally’s voice caught as he asked, “Do you promise?”  

“I promise.” Barry looked at him with that childish grin before returning to the sky.

Sometimes, Wally wished decisions like grad school were his biggest problems instead of a dying mother and protecting an entire city.

It shouldn’t be possible for Barry to be the one solid thing in his life, but lately it seemed that way. Bette was around, and she was _awesome_ , but while she took the time to help Wally train, passing on her skills as a soldier, she wanted to rest, take it easy, work on controlling her powers if there wasn’t a way to remove them. She wasn’t ready to be an on-call member of the team.

Everyone else seemed so preoccupied and busy and, at times, _odd_. Wells was distracted more and more, not to mention short-tempered. Cisco was jumpy, like he expected an ambush at any moment. Joe was definitely up to something, and Eddie couldn’t lie to save his soul, so he knew what Joe was working on but wasn’t sharing even when Wally called him on keeping secrets. At this point, Wally wondered if there was some joint conspiracy, and Barry was the only one he could trust, even though Barry had more secrets than all of them.

Caitlin at least remained stable, though she could stand to leave work at _work_ on the rare nights they went out as a team, Iris too, frankly. It was hard to tell if either of them was in on whatever might be plaguing the others, though they were both such workaholics when they weren’t fussing over him and Barry, it was hard to tell.

Iris kept writing stories about Kid Flash and the meta humans on her blog, no matter how much Joe tried to get her to stop, afraid she’d make herself a target. Joe worried about Wally being a target already. He worried about Barry, untamed and uncontrollable.

How was Wally, youngest among them, overjoyed to have his powers but still overwhelmed, supposed to keep everyone else from falling apart?

“Okay, Barry, I’ll wait,” he said, lying back to enjoy the sunset. “But come home soon, all right? Some days, it’s really hard here without you.”

 

XXXXX

 

This house of cards was poised to collapse any minute, and try as Eobard might to add more barriers and precautions, a single tap in the wrong direction could cause everything to crumble.

Barry knew. He _knew_ and he taunted him with it, even if his condition was real and he was working on some ground-breaking formula that would change everything.

So far Gideon assured Eobard that the distant future remained unchanged other than the byline of West-Thawne and a mention of Captain Cold in the article, but the immediate future could still have disastrous ripple effects.

Where was Eiling? Where was _Grodd_? Eiling at least was a nuisance to be rid of, but Grodd was a tool—now missing.

On top of that, Detective West was getting closer to discovering more about the night Barry’s mother was murdered. Their progress was easy enough to track, given he had cameras throughout the Labs, in the precinct, and in the West home, but even he couldn’t see everywhere.

If Barry did know the truth, he hadn’t allowed any obvious slips in the presence of the others, which had to be intentional. He was stringing Eobard along somehow, still thinking himself the better, always _better_ —Central City's golden boy. Eobard knew not to fall for it as anything other than a clever play in their never-ending game.

It couldn’t be that Barry meant it, his forgiveness, his words of regret and…caring, like family. Eobard was his _Reverse_ in all things. He'd killed Barry's _mother_ to ensure it. That wasn’t something anyone forgave, not even The Flash.

No, Barry had a plan, he had to, and Eobard would let it play out while getting one step ahead. He was still _ahead_. He had to be.

He was aware Cisco let Snart in on the comms and that he’d made the thief an additional gun, and he let it all happen. It made it easier to keep tabs on Snart in return. The strange thing was that so far Snart hadn’t used any of that for his own gain, but a heist or some other ploy was inevitable.

Why was Snart so important to Barry? Besides the indecipherable symbols, that was the one thing he couldn’t explain.

“Do what you gotta do, pal,” Cisco said as he once again opened Barry's cell when he thought they were alone for the night, and in a flicker of yellow…the boy who would be _Flash_ was gone.

And Eobard knew exactly where.

 

XXXXX

 

A creak of the bed and shift in weight woke Len instantly. Reaching for his cold gun on the nightstand, he had it charged and ready to fire even before he rolled over to confront the intruder, but his fight or flight reaction eased the moment he saw the brunette head and familiar boyish face dozing next to him on the opposite pillow.

Barry. _Again_. Impossible, but right there with him.

The benefits of being a speedster meant Barry could go from breaking and entering to fast asleep in the same span of seconds it took Len to respond. If it had been anyone else, Len would have rudely awoken him and frozen him to be an ice sculpture in his bedroom he wouldn’t have worried about until morning, but Barry…

Len didn’t know what Barry was to him, but he was… _something_ , something he couldn’t figure out, and that left him interested if not mildly annoyed by the whole thing. Barry didn’t show up every night, but he’d appeared several times since the first, sometimes in the kitchen making food again, sometimes sitting on the sofa after Len left the room and returned, no matter which safe house he was in either, it didn’t matter, Barry always found him.

But this…this was new.

Setting the cold gun back in its place, Len shifted to face the boy, marveling at his own restraint not to kick him out of bed or recoil. He didn’t know Barry. He knew plenty of things about him that he’d researched—early graduate from CCU with two degrees, youngest CSI at CCPD before his accident, father in jail for killing his mother whose innocence Barry had proclaimed since it happened well over a decade ago—but Len didn’t _know_ him. He shouldn’t feel so at ease in a stranger’s presence. He barely felt this peaceful in the presence of those closest to him.

The dreams hadn’t gone away either. In fact, they’d gotten worse, more distinct, not always about that void that terrified him, but accompanied by small, domestic flashes of _Barry_ on the other side of the lightning storm.

It made sense, Barry was an odd and constant presence now, and he’d foretold of Len’s demise, with the chops to potentially know what he was talking about when he predicted the future. Of course Len would incorporate him into his dreams.

But sometimes they seemed so real. The events of the Kahndaq Diamond playing out but with Barry in a red suit instead of Wally in his yellow. Or Barry in all black committing a heist at Len’s side. Barry in a janitor’s uniform shot by Len’s father. Barry as _The Flash_ slowly taking the cold gun from Len’s fingers with care and kindness. Barry talking to Len through glass at Iron Heights. Like a life not lived, but still an echo.

And somewhere, buried in those flashes, was something else, something new and yet to be experienced that Len was afraid to look at too closely for fear of wanting it.

 _Got him. Safe. Will send home in the morning_ , Len texted Cisco, then laid back down facing Barry, assuring himself that he was not going mad by proxy, he was in control of the situation, he was only curious and putting himself first by keeping Barry close if the kid was so adamant about ‘saving’ him.

His alarm was set early enough to send Barry home in time to stick within his deal with Cisco, before the rest of Team Kid Flash would arrive at STAR Labs to notice his absence. It didn’t matter if they slept.

Besides, Barry kept the bed warm.

 

XXXXX

 

The alarm wasn’t what woke Len but a tingle across his skin, like a pleasant thrill running up his spine. The warmth of Barry had moved from beside him to _on_ him—Len should have known he’d be a snuggler—arms encircling his waist and cheek on his shoulder. Even that didn't make Len want to push the boy away, but when he opened his eyes to discern the sensation making his hair stand on end, his breath caught at what he found and he tensed all down his body.

He was in the void, all clouds and chaos and _lightning_. Somehow, it filled the entire room, encasing the bed and him and Barry with it.

“Shhh,” Barry whispered against his neck as he stirred, “it's okay, Len. I’m just keeping us safe. You aren’t trapped here.”

The panic receded, but why Barry’s words were enough to calm Len, he couldn’t be sure.

“It’s easier with you, ya know. Easier after waking. Easier _here_. All three and I almost feel like me.” Barry lifted his head with a drowsy but _sane_ smile.

“You with me, Scarlet?” Len asked.

“I’m with you. It’s seconds before the alarm goes off, but we can spend longer in here where no one can spy on us.”

What did he expect them to _do_ , Len wondered, but he didn’t know how long he had until Barry regressed. He had to use this time wisely, choose the right questions.

But what left him was, “What do you mean when you talk about the stars?”

“The universe,” Barry said, shifting so that his arms rested on Len’s chest like a couple enjoying a lazy Saturday. “The Speed Force connects to the Timestream, which connects to the Multiverse. It's all so loud, like a chorus in my ahead, and I can't always sift through the noise to find the right words.”

“Am I supposed to understand all that?”

“You will,” Barry chuckled. “You'll figure it out. You’re the cleverest man I know.”

“So this,” Len raised a hand to indicate the tesla ball they were wrapped in, “is the Speed Force?”

“All speedsters use it, we aren’t just _fast_. Wally's connection is pure. Wells's is corrupted.”

“Wells? The one who watches over you at STAR Labs?”

“He isn’t the real Harrison Wells. He hasn't been for years. It’s a false face. The real him is a speedster like me.”

“Who is he?”

Barry glanced away. “The man who killed my mother.”

 _Oh_. So Dad in the clink really was innocent.

“But his corruption, it's not his fault, not completely.”

“That's awfully altruistic about your mother's murderer,” Len said.

“I don’t want vengeance.” Barry met his gaze. “I never wanted that, only freedom for my father. Joe’s started to figure it out, following the path I left behind, but it’s dangerous. _Wells_ is dangerous. Please. You can help him.”

This kid had Len all sorts of twisted, and now he expected more? Len had to get back control, even if he was surrounded by lightning with the weight of The Flash holding him to the bed. “What’s in it for me?”

The response shouldn’t have been a sweeter smile, but that’s what Barry gave him, hands moving for Len’s face, where they held him gently around his jaw. “You know what’s in it for you,” he said and pressed his forehead to Len's.

Len froze beneath him the moment their skin touched as fresh flashes burst behind his eyes. Barry was manipulating him, somehow, with some unknown, additional power, he had to be, but as the visions assaulted him faster, he tried to focus on each one, dissecting every moment to better understand.

Because he didn’t only see Barry, like in his dreams, or the void. He saw himself and a cast of familiar faces.

Sometimes Len wore glasses and a suit at city hall, sometimes he was kissing a man made of light, sometimes _Len_ was the cop chasing criminals, sometimes Lisa was blonde or floating or _gone_. He didn’t understand any of it, but certain flashes with Barry he knew were _this_ life, lost present and future like what he’d seen with that red suit, mixed with a _possible_ future that he’d been trying so hard to ignore.

It was in the _possible_ that Len understood, as though he existed in every iteration, in every time, all at once.

_There are no strings…_

Gasping at the withdrawal of Barry’s forehead against his own, Len felt charged and tingling with sensation, as if his heart was _racing_.

“H-how…did you do that?” he asked, staring at the green eyes in front of him with Barry’s hands still on his face, while Len held the boy’s wrists, ready to pry him away—but he waited first for an answer.

“I wasn’t the one who did it,” Barry said, smiling even as the cyclone started to flicker and fade from creating their perfect bubble. Barry noticed the change with a frown, recognizing their time was short.

“No, not yet. Barry, tell me,” Len demanded, scared, terrified, because already that assurance that he knew, he _knew_ the answers, was slipping through his fingers, and with it, Barry began to slip away too. “What do you mean? What’s happening to me?”

“I thought about getting a full bouquet, but then I thought that was weird,” Barry said, face blank in the wake of the last few sparks dying off in a wave that left the room in darkness.

“Barry—” Len tried, but the alarm let loose its squeal to announce their time was up.

“When I face off against the man in yellow,” Barry said, as if he couldn’t hear the buzzing, “I won't make the same mistake twice.”

“Man in yellow? You mean Wells?” Len grasped at whatever thread he could.

“It wasn't so bad, right?” Barry rolled away from him and started to get up, sheets tossed aside to reveal his STAR Labs sweats and bare feet padding across Len’s room.

With a snarl, Len lashed out at the alarm clock to shut it off, nearly sending his cold gun toppling to the floor in the process, which wasn’t like him, but this was _maddening_ , like nothing he’d ever experienced. It unnerved him that the last thing he wanted was to use the cold gun against Barry and save himself the trouble, like Mick had told him to do. Barry was turning his life upside down, making him question everything he’d ever known, yet all he wanted was answers.

And to have Barry with him for longer than a few stolen moments.

“You're a criminal, Snart, but you live by a code,” Barry said as he stole a pair of socks from Len’s dresser, along with another pair of shoes, which was _two_ he had of Len’s now, moving through the room like he knew exactly where everything was. “You may not have been struck by lightning over here like I was, but today you risked your life for someone else.”

“Is that what you expect from me?” Len said. He thought he was beginning to understand the way Barry spoke, that while the words he used might be from another time to another person, the sentiment he meant to get across was correct. Usually. _Maybe_. Maybe Len was going mad too. “You said you didn’t want me to die a hero, Barry, but you still expect me to act like one.”

“Your rules,” Barry said as if in compromise, climbing up the foot of the bed after getting the shoes on. “I have to go to work now, no matter how much you beg me to stay, but I’ll miss you.”

The blood ran cold in Len’s veins, and he forced himself to sit up, to stop playing submissive when he never submitted to anyone, not like this. “This isn’t some fairy tale. But those visions, those different versions of us, past, future, other timelines, other worlds, they may as well be fiction. How do I know any of it means anything? You’re a meta human. You could be manipulating all of this.”

Never once, as Barry prowled up the bed, did he lose his smile or focus. “Goodbye, Len. Have a nice day. I love you,” he said without flounder or flourish, and while Len wanted to roar and push Barry away from him, those words made him freeze all over again.

Just like the kiss Barry pressed to his lips tenderly and sure, as if they did this every day.

They _did_. Len could remember dozens of moments with these lips on his, while also knowing that _this_ was the first time. Somehow, both were true, and nothing and everything made sense.

In a trail of light and the smell of ozone, Barry left with the same creak of the bed and shift in weight as what brought him.

Lying back, overcome with wonder and emotions he usually suppressed, Len felt for the first time in a long time that he had no idea what to do next. But as much as he doubted his instincts, he knew it would involve a visit to Detective West.

 

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is diving in deeper, some pulled unwilling at Barry's heels - now it's Oliver's turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took off the Dubious Consent tag, because the way things are going, it's not going to happen in a way that warrants the tag anymore. I know that's vague, so I'll still warn people before the chapter it happens, and then we can see if the tag is needed, but I honestly think it's safe without it. 
> 
> I love this fic so much, and am so glad you guys do too. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Joe had been going on no sleep for days now, or only a handful of hours at most, and a third cup of coffee was not helping. Whenever he wasn’t working a normal case or worrying over his kids, he was up in Barry’s abandoned lab at the precinct, staring at the corkboard. Every day he got a little closer to figuring out those missing pieces, but it still wasn’t enough.

At least lately he’d remembered to lock the door when he was up there.

A knock broke him from his laser-focused attention, reminding him that someone could always be looking for him, and if he wasn’t careful, more than Captain Singh would get suspicious of his behavior.

Leaving his coffee on Barry’s desk, he moved for the door to unlock it, finding a uniformed officer he wasn’t sure he recognized since the man’s head was bowed.

“Yeah, what do you want? Captain asking for me? I’m just getting some quiet time up here to finish my paperwork.” He turned away from the officer to head back to the corkboard, hoping it was something simple or unimportant so he could get back to work, because if it wasn’t, he needed to flip the board over before anyone saw too much.

The officer didn’t immediately say anything, but followed Joe in and shut the door behind them. It was when he locked the door again and a sudden pulse of electricity flashed through the room that Joe whirled around with a start.

“Hey. What’s the idea—”

“Short range EMP. I think we need some privacy for this chat, Detective,” _Leonard Snart_ drawled as he pulled the hat from his head.

Joe scrambled to pull his gun, but Snart raised his hands like he was harmless.

“Now, now, do I look armed? No cold gun today, I swear.”

“If that’s true then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Keep those hands where I can see ‘em.” Slowly, offering only a cursory glance around the room to confirm the electronics were out, Joe kept his gun in one hand while the other reached for his belt.

“I wouldn’t bother with cuffs, Detective,” Snart said, hands up as requested.

“Yeah, what for?”

“I’m here to help.”

Joe bit out a bitter laugh. “And why would I believe that?”

“Because _Barry_ is the one who sent me.”

The room froze as if another EMP had gone off. “How do you know that name?” Joe struggled to keep the gun aloft and not drop cuffs from numb fingers.

“I know both your sons,” Snart said. “Barry. _Wally_. Only nineteen and already a vigilante. You must be so proud.” Losing any smugness from his smile, he added, “Relax, I’m not here to use that against you. I’m here about _that_.” He lowered his hands enough to gesture at the corkboard.

“The hell would you care about a fifteen-year-old murder case?”

“Like I said. Barry sent me. His father didn’t commit that crime.”

EMP or otherwise, Snart couldn’t hide the cold gun in his pocket, and Joe honestly didn’t think he had a normal piece tucked somewhere either. As Snart finally dropped his arms, Joe dropped his too. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that, but I can’t prove who did. That still doesn’t answer why you care or how you know Barry.”

“Besides our brief meeting at the theater, you mean?”

Joe grimaced at the reminder.

“Not quite enough time for hot gossip that night, you’re right. Barry and I have chatted several times since, however, when he’s on his walk-abouts from STAR Labs.”

“He’s still getting out?” Joe moaned. “To see _you_?”

Cautiously, since Joe hadn’t put his gun away yet, Snart moved forward and then beyond Joe closer to the corkboard. “It seems Barry is under the impression that my days are numbered and he wants to fix that. Hard to get a straight answer out of him, as you’re well aware, but I believe him.”

Joe huffed as he watched Snart analyze the board and each carefully connected line. Finally, he put the cuffs back on his belt and the gun in its holster. “So you wanna help to get more out of Barry like some crystal ball?”

“He comes to _me_ , Detective,” Snart glanced over his shoulder. “And I can help. I know who you’re looking for.”

Joe started. How could Snart possibly—

“Currently, he’s the man mentoring Kid Flash and footing all those medical bills for the former Mrs. West.”

 _Damn it_ , he did know, but Joe didn’t want to give away that his suspicions had been heading the same direction. “You’re telling me Harrison Wells killed Nora Allen?”

“You already suspected him,” Snart said, like he’d read the thoughts from Joe’s mind. “But I can tell you plainly, he did it.”

“How do you know for sure?”

Snart spoke as solid and direct as the chill creeping up Joe’s spine. “Barry told me.”

Barry _knew_ and still stayed at Wells’s side? _Why?_

“Made me concerned there may be bugs anywhere Wells might deem useful,” Snart looked about the lab with its electronics all fried, “hence the EMP. We need to shift our focus, Detective, to where Wells was fifteen years ago. I’m betting that’s where we’ll find our evidence.”

It made sense, but to hear it from Snart, knowing the intel came from Barry, Joe was certain this had to be the right path. Still, of all the people to bring in on this, why was Barry relying on a criminal?

“Partners?” Snart moved back toward him and held out a hand, like he’d seen everything he needed in Joe’s eyes.

This was insane. But then, so was everything else about this past year.

 _For Barry_ , Joe thought as he shook Snart’s hand firmly, and “Only until I find an excuse to throw your ass in jail.”

 

XXXXX

 

_…when this city needed a hero more than ever before, Kid Flash took on that burden to help where the police couldn’t, facing criminals with unprecedented powers and no thought to his own safety, all because it was the right thing to do._

Iris stared at the words she’d typed to culminate her newest blog post on Central City’s superhero—her baby brother. The papers weren’t covering nearly enough about the meta human crisis, and the public deserved the truth. The fact that the city’s protector was also her brother gave her a unique perspective and an inside view on what was really going on. But sometimes the truth wasn’t enough.

Her blog got more hits every day, even catching the attention of real publications, but it was a hollow victory when one battle had yet to be won.

Glancing at Barry sitting cross-legged on the floor, she frowned at how far away he seemed despite being right next to her. He’d changed tactics with his symbols lately, preferring to work in corners so he could draw on the floor and walls in conjunction. There seemed to be a method to his madness, but what it might be, she couldn’t guess.

Helping Wally in small ways like keeping public opinion on his side, and helping Barry by providing company and having faith that he could get through this, had to be enough. For now, it was time to pull Barry away from his drawing for a snack and as much conversation as she could manage.

Returning to her blog post, she finished the last few lines.

_Keep at it, Kid Flash. We believe in you. We need you. We thank you._

“Sometimes I think about what it would be like if you were out there, Barry,” she said as she stood and stretched above her head, leaving her laptop on the table.

“Anything but The Streak,” he said.

“What?” She tilted her head at him.

“I’m The _Flash_.”

Of course. He’d said that a few times now, which made more sense why he’d been the one to vie for ‘Kid Flash’ as Wally’s codename. Maybe in another life or in the future, he _would_ be out there at Wally’s side. It eased her concerns for her brother to imagine him having a partner beyond the people at the Labs acting as voices in his ear.

“I was writing about Wally, Barry. You know I’ve been keeping you out of my posts, even when you’ve been the one helping. Dad doesn’t want anyone catching on that you have powers too, which would be easier if you weren’t sneaking off where we can’t follow.”

Barry didn’t respond, drawing more furiously, like he’d hit some sort of breakthrough, until his hand started blurring with the speed of his motion.

“Hey, guys,” Cisco’s voice came over the speakers. “Eddie’s calling in about some psycho in a Humvee. Wally just saved a kid from being run over, but it sounds like the driver’s a meta.”

“Coming—” Iris began, but she didn’t get to finish as she found herself already in the Cortex behind Cisco’s terminal, while Barry unwrapped his arms from her waist and leaned over Cisco’s chair.

“Ah!” Cisco yelped.

“Another meta human?” Iris asked, long since used to Barry's surprises.

“Guys?” Wally came through the comms. “It’s like he’s made of steel or something. Eddie's shot bounced right off him.”

“It’s okay,” Barry pressed the button to speak back before Cisco could. “You’re fast enough now. 5.3 mile head start for the best rocket punch you can throw.”

“ _What?_ ” Cisco gaped at him. “Dude—”

“Barry? Are you serious? I could kill him,” Wally protested.

“You won’t. You got this.”

Barry seemed so clear in moments like that, the catch of his eye, the small, sweet smile Iris missed, the certainty and selflessness. Hope was such an unfair thing, and Barry always burst with it.

“I’m gonna try it!” Wally called back, and they watched on the monitors the little red blip that signified Wally moving across town, five miles away in the span of seconds.

“Seriously?” Cisco was still gaping, but one glance at Barry and he sighed with the belief that Barry knew what he was doing. He hadn’t let them down yet.

Iris could almost picture what it looked like even though she wasn’t present—some man made of metal, standing up to Eddie pointing a gun at him even though it had no effect, and Wally coming in fast to clock him clean across the jaw, rippling away his steel form, until he was just a man, who Eddie fired at in the shoulder, and then Wally clocked him once more with a normal punch while his face was flesh and blood.

In minutes, another meta human had been bested, without anyone getting seriously hurt, and Wally was on his way back to put him in the Pipeline.

“I’ll call Caitlin so we can clean that shoulder while he’s still out,” Cisco said.

Iris drew back with a sag of the tension that always creeped into her shoulders whenever Eddie or Joe were out there facing the impossible. “Wally’s just a kid,” she said to Barry, “but sometimes I’m more okay with him out there than Eddie. All these people with superpowers, it’s unfair. Thanks for always being there for us, Barry.”

His sweet smile grew even brighter. “When we were kids, I loved you before I even knew what the word ‘love’ meant.”

“What…?” Iris stared back with a blush filling her cheeks. He’d never said anything like _that_ before.

“Eddie makes you happy. All I ever want is for you to be happy, Iris.”

 _Did he mean…no._ Barry was her best friend. He couldn’t mean it like that. But all the same, if he did or not, it meant something to hear those words. “Thank you,” she said.

“Showing up at crime scenes and seeing someone murdered, it can be ugly work. And I'm lucky. I get to hide behind the science of it and just stay in my lab, but Eddie, he's out there every day in the darkness.” Barry reached for her hands and held them tight. “You’re the light, Iris.”

A wave of affection shivered through her to have so many wonderful people who loved her. “I hope that means someday I can help you find your way home, Barry.”

The wind knocked from her lungs before she could say more, and they were back in Barry’s room, right in the spot she’d stood in before, with Barry in his corner, covering the floor and walls in symbols.

“Hey!” Cisco came over the speakers again. “You guys there?”

“We’re here, Cisco,” she called back, wondering if being here was Barry’s answer, that bringing him home lay in those symbols and continuing to support him the way she had been. If so, she’d never stop trying. “We're okay,” she said more under her breath, and moved to Barry’s side to make sure he was taken care of.

 

XXXXX

 

“It’s not about speed, it’s about form. Try again,” Eddie said, holding the punching bag steady while Wally struck it.

They’d turned one of the STAR Labs rooms into a gym similar to the setup at the precinct. Eddie hadn’t done much with Wally, since usually his training involved superpowers, but after throwing that punch against the man Cisco dubbed _Girder_ , Wally asked him for some combat tips, which he was more than happy to share.

“I thought Bette was teaching you this.”

“She _is_ ,” Wally said, squaring up to take another punch, “but we started with self-defense, so I can avoid having to punch more than once.”

Since everyone else was either outside the Labs today or working on something else, Eddie had made sure to grab Barry to join them. He’d speak up on occasion, but he’d settled in the corner, doodling away. He seemed to be doing that more and more lately.

“Well if you want to avoid a sore wrist next time you make that one punch,” Eddie said, “you need to come from the center of your body and keep your arm, wrist, and fist aligned.”

Taking a breath, Wally adjusted his stance, trying to follow what Eddie was saying, then came at the bag with a rapid succession of much better hits.

“There you go! Get this down a few more times, then you can worry about speed.”

It was nice to get an old fashioned workout in and forget for a while that the kid Eddie was teaching was a literal lightning bolt at his core, but like this, with Eddie in his tank top and Wally in a T-shirt, both sweaty and focused on the basics, it felt like a rare return to normal.

After pummeling the bag several more times, Wally ended with one great punch that nearly knocked Eddie back, rocking him on his heels and forcing him to hang onto the bag for leverage. They both laughed, and Eddie waved to call for a pause as he found his balance.

“Thanks, Eddie. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without all of you.”

“Hey,” Eddie patted Wally’s back as he came over to him, “I’m the one who owes you. Imagine if you hadn’t been there to save that kid from being run over? Once my bullets started bouncing off Girder, I doubt a punch from me would have helped.”

“Iris has a mean right hook,” Barry said from the corner.

“You're right, Barr. Iris could have taken him, but as for me, I needed Kid Flash. I still can’t believe that guy ended up being your high school bully.” He shook his head at the reminder of what Iris had told him. But before Eddie could say anything more though, he noticed that Wally had slinked away. “Wally? What’s up?”

Wally shrugged as if embarrassed to admit what was plaguing him. “Barry’s the one who told me what to do. Sometimes I feel like I’m just a stand-in, waiting for him to recover so he can show everyone what a real hero looks like.”

“Hey,” Eddie went to him and squeezed his shoulder, “Barry being able to join you someday would not diminish anything you’re doing, or what you could do in the future. There’s nothing wrong with having backup. Better a team than one on one, trust me. And what Barry did by telling you how to defeat Girder, that’s called intel. You still chose to act. You still took the risk. That’s heroic. Do you think I do my job without backup or input from your dad?”

“I have a feeling he has _a lot_ of input.” Wally snorted.

Eddie chuckled with him. Wally and Joe were getting to know each other after all, just like Eddie was getting to know both of them. Sometimes it was easier for Wally to relate to Eddie in that regard than Iris—and vice versa.

“And I have a feeling it would be worse if Joe didn’t have so much to distract him. Come on. Want to go a few more rounds before lunch?”

Smile renewed, Wally looked as if he was about to say _yes_ , when Barry zipped to his feet.

“I’m late,” he said, and flashed out of the room.

_Shit._

“Should I follow him?” Wally sparked with ready lightning at his heels.

“Are you fast enough?”

“I don’t think so.”

Gripping Wally’s arm, Eddie ushered them both toward the exit, hoping they could track down Cisco or Caitlin to find Barry, but before they’d reached the door, Eddie’s phone went off next to their water bottles against the wall. The timing was too perfect.

“Joe?” Eddie answered, while Wally stood bouncing on his heels, eager to have a direction to run.

“You still at STAR Labs?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you send Wally for the Tockman transfer?”

 _What?_ That transfer wasn’t happening until later. “Uhh…”

“Coz everyone’s saying Kid Flash just zipped through, and suddenly Tockman’s already where he’s supposed to be. Please tell me that was your idea.”

Having been close enough to overhear, Wally nodded emphatically, which was a total _lie_ , but then, like Eddie had pointed out, Joe already had so much to distract him lately. Did they really need more for him to worry about?

“Yeah, Joe. Sorry about that. It was a last minute decision, so I didn’t get the chance to call you.”

“Last minute or something Barry said again?”

“Barry…may have had something to do with it.”

“Fine.” Joe sighed over the line. “At least it’s over with. But warn me next time.”

“Y-Yeah! Of course, Joe. Sorry again. Safety first and open communication. Always.” Eddie was so bad at lying; he hoped Joe bought that.

“Whatever. I’ll check in later.”

 _Thank God._ Eddie’s heart was beating more widely from that than from using the punching bag.

“What is going on?” Cisco startled them after they’d hung up on Joe, causing Eddie to throw his phone into the air before clumsily catching it. “Where’s Barry? I swear I saw his lightning trail flash through the Cortex.”

At least Cisco would take this easier than Joe, though just as Eddie and Wally were about to explain, that same lightning trail danced around Cisco, making him clutch his tablet to his chest, and then Barry was back in his corner—with Cisco’s licorice whip in his mouth.

“ _Hey_ ,” Cisco complained, before his tablet started beeping at him. “What did…? You put someone in the Pipeline? Who is this guy?”

There was a flicker of lightning before the lights went off.

“Barry!” they cried in unison.

The lights came back on and Barry was standing with them. “Get it?” he said, grinning around his licorice.

Eddie, Wally, and Cisco all looked at each other.

“Barry,” Wally said, “I am so glad you’re on our side.”

Focusing on Eddie, Barry looked suddenly overcome with emotion. “I promise I will never be late again,” he said and hugged Eddie tight.

Eddie was a touchy kind of guy, so was Barry, from what he could tell, but he was fairly certain Barry had never hugged him before. Then, a moment later, Barry was back in his corner.

While the others kept exchanging worried glances, Eddie wondered if something would have gone wrong with Tockman, or with that new meta, or _both_ , but at this point being oblivious really was bliss.

Turning back to Wally, he mustered his best smile. “Ready for round two?”

 

XXXXX

 

This city was far too…bright, even at night time. There was something about the streets, the buildings, the _people_ that made it the opposite of Starling in many ways. If it hadn’t been for tracking the man with boomerangs, Oliver might have avoided coming to Central City after dark and stuck to a day-time visit.

As it stood, his schedule hadn’t allowed for that, and it seemed _Kid Flash_ needed an assist.

“Felicity?”

“Next building over,” she answered over his comms. “Police almost got the guy cornered, but Kid Flash has been tailing him right along with you. Play nice, okay? He isn’t Barry.”

“I know that.” And Oliver could play nice. Maybe not _too_ nice. Just because Wally West was still a teenager didn’t mean Oliver was about to coddle him. That wouldn’t teach him anything.

It was an interesting chase, to be sure. Clever thief, several police officers, and Kid Flash as well, but before the young hero could get the jump on his quarry, one of the officers who’d gotten close to the man started firing on his comrades instead. It didn’t look like an occasion of crooked cop. Had to be powers again.

_Damn._

“I knew making a house call was a good idea,” Oliver said, as he nocked an arrow and fired, aiming for the officer’s shoulder, since he was obviously not in his right mind.

Kid Flash zipped past the scene, and while the thief managed to get away in the chaos, the officer who’d seemed enraged blinked confusion as soon as that lightning trail danced in front of his eyes.

Oliver waited in the rafters of the building, and soon that lightning trail came to him.

“You’re the Arrow,” Wally said as he skidded to a stop.

Oliver had plans for this up and comer, but as he opened his mouth for their introduction—

“ _Green_ Arrow,” Barry said, appearing behind Oliver as if he’d materialized from nothing.

“I…” Oliver glanced back, then at Wally, then at Barry. “That’s _not_ it. Barry, are you alright? Felicity said—”

“Is Barry there?” Felicity blared over the comms.

“I knew you didn’t need me,” Barry said, looking out of place in sweatpants next to Oliver and Wally’s suits. “I grabbed Boomerang. He’s in the Pipeline waiting for you.”

“What?” Oliver gawked, wondering if Barry meant—

“Raider will be harder. Don’t look him in the eyes, cries, tries…” Barry trailed off, clutching at his head. “There’s a different star for all of you, that’s why they’re so loud. Singing, wailing, _screaming_.”

“Barry,” Wally stepped forward, “you need to get back to STAR Labs. You’re not supposed to be here.”

Barry nodded like he understood but then smiled and stood upright as if nothing was bothering him. “Race you there,” he said gleefully, and looked to Oliver with similar exuberance. “Ready?”

“What—” Oliver tried, but something punched him in the gut, which he realized too late was his stomach being left _behind_ as Barry hauled him away at impossible speeds until he stood inside what he could only assume was STAR Labs, hoping his stomach didn’t catch up only to form an immediate escape plan out his mouth. “ _Barry_ ,” Oliver growled in frustration, because they weren’t alone.

The people Felicity had described—Cisco, Caitlin, Wells—were all there, and a second later, so was Kid Flash.

“You’re the Arrow,” Cisco exclaimed.

 _“Green_ Arrow,” Barry corrected.

“It’s not—”

“I know Oliver Queen.”

 _“Barry_.”

“I'll help you find your boomerang man,” Barry continued no matter how much wrath entered Oliver’s voice, “you can help me find my super rage-a-holic.”

What was he even talking about? Barry made far less sense than Felicity had explained—or maybe Oliver hadn’t wanted to believe it could be this bad after the young man had done so much to help him. Barry didn’t deserve getting struck by lightning, and he didn’t deserve whatever this was either.   

That didn’t excuse him outing Oliver to a room full of _strangers_.

“Oh, see I knew the Arrow was Oliver Queen,” Cisco said with a grin as wide as Barry’s. “I mean, I had it narrowed down to, like, a list of 150 people, but he was definitely on that list.”

“Mr. Allen, Mr. West,” Wells rolled forward in his wheelchair with a twitch at his temple that Oliver could relate to, “what is the meaning of this?”

“He doesn't kill people anymore,” Barry said, as if defending Oliver, though he didn’t feel particularly defended. “Whatever you do, do not let him train you,” he said to Wally, then turned to Oliver. “I'm sorry, but when it rains I can still feel where you shot me with those arrows.”

“What?” Oliver said aloud, because he’d certainly never shot Barry. Recognizing the futility of keeping up the charade with these people, he pulled the hood from his head, returning his voice to normal, though his eyes were still darkened with makeup. Maybe a mask was in order like Kid Flash, especially given how easily his identity was being given up tonight. “Felicity told me you weren’t well, but I didn’t think—”

“It’s okay. I’ll protect William too,” Barry said.

“Who’s William?” Oliver’s earpiece blared with questions from Felicity, and rather than argue, he simply said, “Yes, fine. We’re at STAR Labs. Felicity and Diggle are on their way. You really have this…Boomerang?”

“Is that who showed up in the Pipeline just now?” Cisco came forward holding a tablet. “Barry’s been on a role bringing in unexpected visitors with records and warrants, and this guy has some serious anger issues.” As he turned the tablet around, Oliver saw footage of a man in a small, glowing blue cell. “He’s all yours, Mr. Arrow…Queen, sir. Heh, Arrow Queen,” he snickered, then clutched the tablet like a Teddy bear. “Sorry, I’m nervous.”

“You keep criminals here?” Oliver willed himself to have patience.

“Meta humans,” Barry said.

“I’m not calling them that.”

“You will.”

“Barry, this is serious,” Oliver barked, “not only Boomerang but back there with the officer, that was caused by a…meta human?” he said with a grimace.

“The thief was a meta?” Wells asked, but before Wally, who’d also drawn his cowl back, could answer, a new voice startled Oliver into reaching for his bow.

“I’d take Barry’s word for it, if I were you.” A man stepped into the light from a nearby doorway, wearing a smug smirk and a navy parka with fur lining the hood.

Leonard Snart.

“We call him Captain Cold,” Barry said with a smile.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Cisco accused, in what sounded like annoyance more than fear.

Snart hardly seemed fazed by having an arrow pointed at him. He didn’t even draw his gun, though Oliver could see it on his thigh, peeking out of the parka. “Barry said he needed to borrow my goggles. Something about a meta he called the Rainbow Raider. Not my personal favorite nickname, but then I’m bias.

“Now,” he stalked forward past Caitlin and Wells to reach the center of the room, turning to address them all, and then staring Oliver down with an admittedly impressive amount of dismissal, “while I couldn’t be certain if Barry was asking for the recent or quite distant future, I figured I should be a pal and stop by to drop them off.” He twirled the goggles around his finger, which Oliver had seen in photos usually covering his eyes or hanging from his neck. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Queen. Dr. Wells. Dr. Snow. Cisco. Wally. Barry’s told me so much about you all.”

 

XXXXX

 

This was a disaster. Eobard couldn’t have predicted Barry being bold enough to reveal the Green Arrow’s identity to everyone while also requesting for Snart. Had Barry known it would all collide like this? Was it part of his plan? It had to be. The chaos connected too perfectly to be happenstance.

But now Eobard had to wonder—what had Barry told Snart about _him_?

He’d initially bugged a few of Snart’s safe houses, but the thief kept changing which one he was at, and Eobard hadn’t been able to tail him while focused on Barry. There could be all sorts of things he didn’t know about their meet-ups, especially when his camera had cut out at the precinct recently.

The combined surprises were too suspicious, especially when involving a man as proficient at moving chess pieces as Leonard Snart.

 “You can drop the arrow, _Arrow_ ,” Snart said, moving confidently to Barry and holding out his goggles. “I do expect to get these back, you know.”

Barry took them like he’d been offered a bouquet of flowers, only to pass them to Wally. “ _Don’t_ look him in the eyes.”

“You mean the thief? The new meta?” Wally said as he accepted them.

Raider— _Bivolo_. The goggles were smart, given the tint, and Wally was smart too, because he’d learned how to pay attention to what Barry tried to tell them.

“Thanks, Barr. And um…thanks, Cold. Guess we’re all on the same side tonight.” Wally shrugged innocently, not caring that Snart could see his face, that Barry had obviously revealed his identity to a _killer_ as well as everybody else’s here, unless Snart was just that good, which was possible, but Eobard suspected more.

At any rate, Barry and Wally’s calm acceptance of Snart was enough to get Queen to drop his bow.

Fools. If Eobard sensed for even a moment that Snart _knew_ , that Barry was about to blow his cover or had already, he’d kill everyone in this room except Barry and Wally, and demand Barry help him or threaten to snap the boy’s neck too.

 

XXXXX

 

Len was on thin ice, but between Barry’s requests and occasional tidbits into the future, and the progress Len had managed with West, he had to make his play early to get access to STAR Labs. Eventually, he needed to be a familiar face.

He could feel Wells sizing him up as accutely as Queen was, and while both were dangerous men, Wells was the one to watch. Len needed to play this up as a selfish act, so that none of them ever suspected he might actually… _care_. It would only put them at risk as Wells grew more suspicious. But if he focused on Len and Len was just another villain…

“Don’t get excited. Barry is an oracle these days, doncha know, and he won’t shut up about my untimely demise sometime in the near future. I don’t plan to let him out of my sight until I learn how to avoid going out with a _bang_.”

“Like a Legend,” Barry said with reverence that Len would never get used to.

“Be that as it may,” Len said, “I’d rather be alive than legendary. So, how can I be of service to make sure this ragtag team keeps kicking long enough for me to get what I want?”

“How about handing over my cold gun?” Cisco demanded with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow.

Cute. “Not happening. But I can promise you I won’t use it on Wally or Barry.”

“What’s to stop us from taking it from you right now?” Snow asked, rather confident with Queen added to the mix.

“If you think I don’t have safeguards,” Len tapped the gun, “you’re in for a _brisk_ surprise.”

“Mr. Snart,” Wells wheeled forward, taking effortless control of the room, “the city needs our help. Even if it’s only for a short while until you get what you want from Barry, we welcome any aid you’re willing to offer. The goggles. Intel if you have it. All we ask is that you refrain from adding to our workload.”

Oh, he played his part well, yes indeed. “Truce then. For now,” Len said. “I’m sure Barry will bring the goggles back to me once you’re done with them. I’d expect to see a lot more of me.” He passed his gaze challengingly around the room.

Cisco gave him a private look as if to say, _what the hell_ , but Len ignored him. If nothing else, this little outing tonight was _fun_ , but it was time to take his leave.

Queen was the one who stopped him with a painful grip on his arm, which Len met with a hard stare, though he could feel that trying to wrench free would not turn out in his favor.

“They might be willing to compromise,” Queen said, “and it’s their city, so I’ll let them have their say, but after you’ve gotten what you want, if you decide to use this to your advantage against these people, against _Barry_ , Kid Flash isn’t the worst vigilante you’ll have to worry about.”

 _Good to know_ —Queen had a soft spot for Barry too _._

While Len’s instincts were to poke the bear, he couldn’t afford to make new enemies tonight. “I might not care about the people in this room, but I do care about my city. With all those metas out there, removing Central of any of its heroes would be counterproductive, even for me.” He waited for Queen to release him, and after a moment of lingering, he did.

“I hope for your sake you’re telling the truth.”

Not entirely of course, because while Len did care about the city, he also cared about Barry. He just didn’t know _why_.

Because of half-echoed memories? Because of visions and dreams? Because he liked having Barry around, at his side, in his _bed_ , there to steal an unexpected kiss? Because it all kept escalating, and now, every so often, Len knew what Lisa or Mick or others were about to say before they said it, like he could see…

 _Damn it._ Maybe he was a meta human too. Maybe he was something else. Until he had answers, he had to stay the course.

He was about to take his leave, alone headed down the hallway out, when he felt gentle fingers on his arm where Queen had grabbed so angrily. It was no surprise to find Barry at his elbow, because he hadn’t flinched, knowing instinctively that it was someone he didn’t need to recoil from.

The affection in Barry’s eyes had Len prepared for something profound.

“I don’t actually like mini marshmallows.”

“Okay.” Len blinked at him. “Whipped cream in your cocoa then?”

“ _Exactly_. See, together we balance each other out.” He tapped Len’s heart, and the gesture seemed familiar, though the way Len remembered it was the other way around.

_Call me sentimental, I think The Flash should remain a hero._

Len waited for the lean in, for another taste of Barry’s lips, so when all he got was a tingle of lightning and empty air, his stomach churned with disappointment.

 _Cameras_ , he reminded himself. Barry was cracked, but Wells was a paranoid psychopath, and Barry knew what to share and what to keep hidden. They had to play this right, however it turned out, and no one played the long game like Leonard Snart.

Even if he wasn’t sure of the ending.

Tomorrow, he thought, as he entered the elevator, he and West would continue the hunt.

 

tbc...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think things might get heated next chapter already, so stay tuned as we continue to dive through Season 1!
> 
> Love you all!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next stage in the plan begins, but that doesn't mean there isn't time for love and romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I continue to be amazed with your response on this, everyone. Thank you so much for following this tale. It's so much fun to revisit season 1 in this unique way. 
> 
> Enjoy!

John had already taken Boomerang—George "Digger" Harkness—back to Starling, but there was no way Felicity was missing this. Oliver had planned to give Wally basic vigilante training beyond what his team had been teaching him, and Barry, in his stilted language, had insisted on joining them.

Frankly, Felicity was surprised none of the others had protested an appearance by The Arrow, though it seemed they all agreed that Barry’s trust in someone was enough. Wells had looked on with strained disapproval but he’d nodded eventually like all the rest.

“Anything that helps Mr. West get faster is welcome.”

The boy was a wonder to watch move. So was Barry. And anything that caught Oliver off guard was classic entertainment. Apparently, Team Kid Flash weren’t bad teachers. Though Barry interfered on occasion with Oliver’s tactics, especially where real arrows were involved.

“ _Barry_ ,” Oliver snapped in irritation when Barry once again disabled a trap at lightning speed before it could spring. “Sometimes Wally won’t have backup to speed to his rescue. He needs to be prepared for that.”

“Like Rocky?”

“What?” Oliver blinked obliviousness like with most of what Barry said.

Wally snickered as he joined them, panting from the drills Oliver had been running him through behind an old warehouse on the outskirts of town. “He probably said that to you under different circumstances. Or _would_ have. About training!” he said as if a lightbulb had lit up. “That makes sense. Plus, boxing is a one-on-one sport.”

Oliver turned his blinking to Wally, still not understanding, but Felicity thought she was finally figuring some of this out.

“He gets what you’re trying to teach me,” Wally restated, “he just wants to be there for us. For all of us.”

“That’s fine in theory,” Oliver said, “but no one can be everywhere at once. Not even Barry or you. If you’re going to continue to protect your city, you need to be ready for anything.”

“I know that. And I appreciate this so much, Oliver, really.”

Felicity couldn’t help smiling. Oliver stood no chance keeping surly when facing a teenager as sweet and hopeful as Wally West on top of Barry's good nature. He was surrounded by puppy-pouting speedsters. She snorted, drawing Oliver's attention, to which he immediately frowned.

“Be nice, dice, ice. I-I-I’m just saying, Oliver, I beat you _twice_ ,” Barry stammered.

Hands planted on his hips, Oliver heaved a sigh. “Fine. No real arrows,” he conceded, gesturing to Felicity, who had control over the field of play on her tablet. It had been fun helping him set up the traps. “I have other surprises. Compromise, but then _you_ stay put.” He pointed squarely at Barry like scolding a child. He’d make a great father someday, not that Felicity was preoccupied by that thought!

In answer, Barry zipped over to sit beside her on the platform of the warehouse, legs dangling and smile wide. Felicity smiled at Oliver in kind.

Oh yeah, he was sorely outnumbered.

As the training continued, Oliver would fire arrows for Wally to chase, while having traps ready to catch him off guard along the way or just as he got back to the warehouse, and he did get caught a few times by trick arrows that tied his legs, shocked him, or released a burst of smoke. But beyond his reflexes, he had a good sense of perception, no matter how hard Oliver pushed him. And it might have helped that no real arrows stabbed him in the back to test his healing factor.

There were a few traps even Oliver wasn’t aware of though, so at one point, Felicity leaned in close to Barry to show him the placement on her tablet, and he nodded vigorously. Just as Oliver was firing a net at Wally, Felicity set off one of the paint ball arrows, splattering Oliver’s chest in canary yellow.

“ _Felicity_.”

Wally had dodged the net. Oliver wasn’t as lucky.

She was far too busy falling against Barry in laughter to respond, him giggling along with her, while Wally soon joined them too. Even Oliver's grouchy face couldn’t resist cracking a smile before long.

“It’s _not_ funny,” he said anyway.

“It’s a little funny,” Wally snickered.

They still needed to catch Bivolo, Barry’s Rainbow Raider, but from what they’d been able to decipher from eye-witness reports and Barry’s jumbled jargon, if this new meta used his abilities on civilians, effectively inducing rage, Wally’s lightning trail had the power to snap them out of it. But even though Barry could run in front of Wally just as effectively, they didn’t want to take any chances of Kid Flash getting whammied, hence the goggles.

Cisco and the STAR Labs team were working on tracking Bivolo that very moment.

“What happened to _you_?” Joe asked as he appeared from around the building.

Wally trailed a finger through the bright yellow paint on Oliver’s chest, leaving a zigzag like a lightning bolt in his wake, then _bolted_ away to get out of harm’s reach. Oliver scowled after him, but Felicity and Barry broke into fresh laughter as they got to their feet. Joe was there to pick Barry up for an important appointment.

Once everyone was gathered on the platform, Oliver said they could forego any further training for now, “Since I also need a change of clothes.” He then held his hand out to Wally, any pretense set aside. “You’re going to do fine,” he said, before turning to Barry with a somber expression that Felicity recognized as him honestly caring about this team and all its members that were so different from their own. “I hope you find your way back to us, Barry.”

He would, Felicity thought, she just hoped it was soon, especially when Barry whispered in her ear as he hugged her in goodbye, “Ray is not your hero. You’ll get the right one eventually.”

“That is a mean promise, Barry,” she whispered back.

“Not mean. Just make sure you marry him the first time around.”

“First—” She caught herself before she could finish the thought. “I need to remember not to ask questions. But…thanks, Barry. Be good, okay?”

“Always.”

 

XXXXX

 

Henry hadn’t seen his son since right before Barry’s accident. Months in a coma, then months with only the message from Joe that Barry was awake but _recovering_. Henry didn’t know what to expect. He thought maybe Barry had some sort of permanent injury. Paralyzed? Disfigured? But he looked normal when Henry finally saw his boy come through the door to speak with him through glass, save the beard he wasn’t used to, but it looked good on Barry. He looked good.

“Hey there, slugger,” Henry said as Barry dropped into the chair across from him excitedly and picked up the phone with a wide smile.

“It’s okay if you need fishing trips sometimes.”

“What’s that?”

“You need to get out of here, okay?”

“Barry, I’m fine,” Henry frowned, though he was used to Barry’s mantra about how one day he’d finally prove his innocence. “I know you’re doing everything you can—”

“I'm still having trouble breathing,” Barry said with distress washing away his smile.

“You are? From the accident?” Henry scooted closer, even if there was a partition between them.

“I just miss her.” Barry looked stricken then, close to tears, a cavalcade of emotions playing out in rapid succession. “I miss you so much.”

“Barry…”

“I wasted so much time being angry about what I'd lost, when I had…sad, _Dad_.” He slammed his hand against the side of his head like someone smacking a jukebox to get it to stop skipping, and Henry had no idea how to respond. What had happened to his boy?

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Barry. You’re okay, aren’t you?”

Barry blinked like he wasn’t sure where he was. “Mom said only one cup of cocoa before bed. We’ll get in trouble.”

Henry’s heart sank hearing that small voice, like when Barry was little, like twenty years ago was only yesterday. “Hey…are you with me, Barry?”

The fog cleared and Barry sat up straighter. “Soon, Dad. We all have to decide who we are. This is who I am. Say hi to Dave for me. He’ll make a great monk someday.”

“Dave? How…?”

Barry pressed a palm to the glass, and Henry couldn’t help but mirror him as he had since Barry’s hand was much smaller. Then Barry cringed like his head hurt and he dropped the phone, getting up to go to the corner near the door where he curled up beside a messenger bag Joe had brought, and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, writing away like he was somewhere else entirely.

Joe, waiting there near the guard on duty, looked down at Barry with a frown. He seemed so tired, more worn than Henry had ever seen him, not that he’d seen the detective much. Then, for the first time in all these years, Joe came over and sat down, picking up the phone where Barry had dropped it.

“I was hoping he’d make more sense with you.”

“What happened?”

“We don’t know, but that’s how he woke up. It’s more complicated than I can say,” Joe glanced around—at the guard, at the cameras recording everything, “but we're keeping him safe. Most the time, he keeps _us_ safe, even if he is a little off. Sorry it took so long to bring him to see you.”

“What changed your mind?” Henry asked. He’d always known Joe disapproved of Barry visiting him.

“ _He_ did,” Joe said, passing another concerned and caring glance at _their_ son, then turning to Henry with resolve he never would have expected. “We're gonna get you out of here. Just hold tight.”

Out? Joe West believed he hadn’t committed his crime after all these years? Something big must have happened. Had Barry, even in his strange state, discovered the real killer like he’d always promised?

“I can’t wait to hear the long explanation,” Henry said rather than voice his many questions.

“Hopefully by then, Barry can give you the answers himself.”

The next day, Henry heard early on the news about Kid Flash taking down a new meta human—Roy Bivolo. Everyone whispered about him working out of STAR Labs, which made Henry wonder whether Barry was wrapped up in that too.

At least he was alive and healthy after his brush with death, but while he was changed, the people watching over him didn’t seem to believe it was permanent. Joe saw it as a blessing in disguise that could eventually reveal something good, maybe even a way to get Henry out of prison.

If that was true, he wouldn’t be surprised. He was never surprised by the lengths his son could go to make him proud. He just hoped whatever came next was worth it.

 

XXXXX

 

It was Christmas. There was always the chance that Eddie was only nervous because of whatever gift he’d gotten Iris, but the way he had a hand in his pocket as if closing fingers around something precious had Caitlin certain she knew what he was carrying.

She was happy for them. Iris and Eddie were so in love, and Caitlin had grown close to both of them over the months. Of course she wanted her friends to be happy. But another Christmas without Ronnie, even surrounded by people in the West house she considered family, just reminded her of what she’d lost and what she wasn’t sure she could ever find again.

“He needs to ask Joe first,” Barry said to her, passing an eggnog into her hands with apparently too much rum, though she almost welcomed that tonight.

“Oh? Does he know that?” she asked, trying to stay upbeat rather than let the holiday blues get to her.

“He did the first time. Joe said no.”

“ _Oh_.”

“He won’t tonight. She won’t either.”

“Are you okay with that, Barry?”

It was often easier to go along with Barry, whether lucid or otherwise, but it was always his wisdom that caught her off guard and had her wondering if he was only seconds away from snapping back to fully being himself again. “A great man once said, there is no science to coincidence.”

“Meaning a coincidence is powerful,” she agreed.

“Once, Eddie was the only one who got to choose his own destiny. This time we all can.”

It was eerie, that wisdom, but also uplifting in ways Caitlin had a hard time dismissing. She wanted to have faith in Barry like she’d never had faith in religion or the universe. Barry was something else, outside of it all, who had their backs and believed he could make everything better. Maybe he could.

Though he wasn’t meant to do it alone.

It took Caitlin a moment to realize that at some point he’d handed her his eggnog too, or maybe that had been on purpose. She decided Eddie must need the liquid courage and that’s why Barry had given her two.

She stole Eddie away from where he was fidgeting during a conversation with Cisco and Wally that he clearly wasn’t paying attention to, hand in his pocket still like he couldn’t stand not keeping in contact with what she knew was small and velvet.

“Not that it’s my business,” she said, “but Barry wants you to know you need to ask Joe before Iris. He also implied that you have nothing to be nervous about.”

“He did?” Eddie looked at her with such potent, bubbling emotion, he appeared much younger than he was. His emotions often made him seem that way so that she forgot he was several years older than her and Iris. “If I ask Joe, what if he says no?”

“You know, I don’t think he will.”

Eddie nodded rapidly, steeling his nerves to go through with this like he’d obviously planned. Before she could hand him the extra eggnog, he turned as if to bee-line right for Joe, when there was a knock at the front door.

“Right on time.” Barry moved to answer, and along the way, he added, “Merry Christmas, Caitlin.”

“What?” she said, watching with the others while he opened the door.

It was Ronnie.

 

XXXXX

 

Ronnie still had trouble sorting out what he remembered from his time combined with Stein where he was merely a passenger for months. Now that they were safely separated, he felt like himself again despite the psychic connection. Stein's way of thinking changed his own, made some things clearer, because he could see another perspective now, but neither of them fully understood Barry or how he’d known to help them.

Barry found him— _them_ , while they were still one muddled person—talking nonsense at them but every so often making sense or saying a familiar name, like Caitlin or Clarissa. Stein remembered meeting Barry on the train before the Accelerator explosion, and when Barry started drawing schematics for what he called a ‘splitter’, they knew his idea might be their only chance to be themselves again.

Separating any other way might have left them unstable, but the splitter preserved them. Their abilities remained and every so often they needed to merge to maintain stability, but it was a worthwhile compromise. And while Ronnie was glad to have a night away from Stein, he couldn’t wait to tell Caitlin all about his adventures and how Barry had saved them.

“Room for one more?” he said, entering the home Barry had given him the address to with a specific time to show up, trusting the confusing young man as he had with everything else. “Maybe that eggnog’s meant for me,” he said to Cait, frozen as she was in the center of the room.

“ _Dude_.” Cisco launched at Ronnie hard enough that he had to laugh, barely seeing his friend coming before they were attached. He hugged Cisco back. He’d missed him, but his eyes still sought out Caitlin above everyone else, who looked ready to drop both mugs she carried to the floor.

“It’s okay,” he said, patting Cisco’s back before he moved past him further into the room.

“How…?” she said.

“Barry.” He shrugged but got the impression from the people in the room, even those he didn’t know, that that was a satisfying answer.

Cait was near tears, and when Ronnie went forward to embrace her, flickers of lightning took the mugs from her hands so she could accept him with open arms.

Just like Barry, the whirlwind of what came next never seemed to slow down. There were hushed words and quiet whimpers, eventual introductions to the people around them, but an explanation for Ronnie’s miraculous arrival was still in order.

“Now, can someone please explain to me what is going on with Barry and how he knew to save us?” Ronnie finally got to ask what had been plaguing him.

“Us?” Cisco repeated. “What about – what did he save _you_ from?”

“You guys go first. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

So they did, both sides of similarly insane stories all because of the Particle Accelerator. Eventually, when the details were out of the way, Ronnie pulled Cait into the kitchen so they could have a few moments alone.

As they excused themselves, stopping to thank Barry once more, who smiled and nodded despite his nonsensical words, Ronnie overheard Eddie say:

“Um, Joe, can I ask you something important?”

 

XXXXX

 

_Iris Thawne. Sounds pretty good, huh?_

Iris Thawne.

Iris West.

Iris West-Allen.

 _No_.

Iris West- _Thawne_ had a nice ring to it.

It stung a little, but not the way Barry would have expected. Instead it was like that moment in the Speed Force talking with his mother, finally coming to terms with something he’d taken too long to let go.

Now, he watched out the window as Eddie led Iris onto the stoop, where they’d kissed, not kissed, never kissed, with gentle snowfall haloing her in beautiful white like the veil she’d wear someday, pay, _stay_ , and dropped to one knee right there in the snow.

There was no sting watching Iris’s hands fly up to cover her mouth, the smile clear beyond her hands, lands, _plans_ , there was only joy for his best friend, seeing her that happy and knowing how much happier she’d be every day after.

Joe came up and squeezed Barry’s shoulder, watching out the window with him. “You knew I’d say yes, huh? That she would too?”

“The twins are going to love you, Paw-Paw.”

Joe laughed before his face went blank. “ _Twins_?”

Twins ran in Iris’s family, after all, not Barry’s, and he could see them now, the beautiful boy and girl Iris and Eddie would raise, who’d run to him as Uncle Barry, and grow up strong and remarkable just like their parents. It was humbling, yes, but not painful, though the spectacle did leave Barry with a cyclone of longing dancing through his mind of girlfriends and boyfriends in the past and not-quite future and how none had ever felt right, until at the end of a long tunnel of memory and possibility stood a man in navy blue.

_You’re turning scarlet, Scarlet._

_I remember sometimes, what it was like to be unmade._

_I didn't see you before. Your mom know you're out past your bedtime?_

Past, present, and differing futures collided, but still, Barry knew what path he was on, however changed. Surrounded as he was by love between Iris and Eddie, Caitlin and Ronnie, and the rest of his friends and family, the only one missing besides Henry not yet freed from prison…was Eobard. Barry wasn’t yet sure if there was a place for him.

The party continued with much celebration around the reunited and engaged couples, but when it all wound down, Cisco brought Barry back to STAR Labs like usual.

“Dude, I don’t actually need to lock you up anymore. No one’s buying it. You heading out? To see Cold?”

Barry sang “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” to Len one Christmas when they were snowed in, and of course, Len had rolled his eyes in exasperated fondness. Would roll his eyes. _Will_.

“Right, okay,” Cisco said in response to Barry’s singing. “I gotta get to my folks anyway, but if you see Lisa, maybe…I mean…” He sighed and handed Barry a small box.

Barry peeked inside. He could picture it on Lisa’s neck accompanying various outfits over the years to come, two G’s connected in glittering gold.

“For Golden Glider, not ‘good game’, if she asks. If she even knows that phrase—don’t tell her I said that. I just figured she could use a name too, you know? There were some leftovers from when I made her gun, and…yeah.”

“The universe wants us to be bros,” Barry said.

“I know, man. Wait, like _bros_ or like…in-laws sort of?”

“Merry Christmas, Cisco.” Barry hugged his friend swiftly. “You've always been my hero.”

He took off before Cisco could ask questions he couldn’t answer, heading to where he knew Len would be this Christmas, and he found him, just as he expected, with Mick and Lisa too.

The safe house wasn’t decorated like the West home, but Lisa had a small LED tree she was smiling at, covered in simple ornaments with a handful of presents beneath.

When Barry appeared at her side, he slipped Cisco’s present under to join the rest.

“From Santa?” she said, not startled in the least by his arrival.

“From Cisco, Golden Glider.”

“Golden…” Lisa shook her head and tore into the box, understanding lighting up her eyes as soon as she saw the connected G’s.

Then Mick came up, trying to frown but failing, because he wasn’t nearly as churlish as people thought. He called to Len in the other room, and already Barry felt more grounded in the now just by being near the man who in some ways was as Timeless as he was.

“Hey, Snart! Sparky's here.”

 

XXXXX

 

This kid who kept showing up, the cracked speed freak, was loud, clingy, _annoying_ , just all around too much of a damn ball of sunshine. The fact that Mick hadn’t torched him yet simply said he wasn’t all bad. Occasionally tolerable. More so when he got Mick a beer and stuck to Snart’s side instead of trying to cozy up to him, though he always did seem to know right when Mick needed a refresh on his drink.

Snart looked put out by Lisa’s dawdling with the tree, all show of course, he liked it because it made her happy, but the mask fell completely when he saw Sparky.

The kid started rambling about eggnog, and Mick was game if it included booze. Yeah it was Christmas, but festive wasn’t usually their way, and he was itching to steal or burn something—maybe both. He and Snart had their sights on a priceless painting, but Mick’s partner had been preoccupied and busy elsewhere most nights.

He figured it had to do with Sparky. Fine. Sparky had intel and ideas, spoke of adventures Mick would have someday that sounded like a sci-fi novel. Crazy to think he might really know the future but there was plenty of evidence. Kept recommending books for Mick to read but saying it like, “You really love this one,” as if Mick had already read it. Kid hadn't been wrong yet.

Tonight, forced to congregate and let Lisa pass out presents, Mick accepted the mug Sparky eventually handed him. The eggnog was _strong_. Good.

“You’re a badge, yeah?” Mick said, remembering tidbits about the kid he’d learned from Snart. “But I guess you’re not so bad. Don’t think that means I’m going soft.”

“Ray's cupcakes are the best,” Barry said, snuggled next to Snart with his own mug held close, only his had cocoa and a mound of whipped cream.

Always going on about this Ray guy. Mick wondered who he was.

Sometimes he thought he knew, thought Sparky made sense somehow but should have been wearing a red suit. In those moments, memories stirred in the back of Mick’s mind that weren’t real, like endless time, centuries of it, like somewhere at the center of the universe time stopped and he was there—or had been there, once—which didn't make any damn sense, but it did make him more inclined to listen to Sparky and not mind his company so much.

 

XXXXX

 

Barry made them feel like a family in ways Len thought was beyond them. Mick softened. Lisa brightened. And Len, well, he felt _warm_. Young again. And more than ever before like nothing could touch him, even if an evil speedster was watching and waiting for him or West or _Barry_ or anyone else to give them away and invite unholy terror upon them.

Len always did like a challenge.

What he hadn’t expected was how easily Mick and Lisa took to Barry. It was impossible to avoid them when Barry had been showing up all these weeks at odd hours regardless of Len's location. The true moments of lucidity, however, were only when they were alone, and they only lasted longer than a brief passing of seconds if Barry cocooned them in the Speed Force.

Len liked it there, which was strange, because it reminded him of the Void, his nightmares, yet with Barry, he felt safe, and safe wasn’t a luxury he was used to any more than the notion of family.

Barry slept with him often. _Kissed him_ often, but also only when they were alone. It wasn’t shame, Len knew, but concern that the imposter Wells would catch them and turn that to his advantage.

Mick, bless him, allowed Barry's presence with barely a snide remark because he expected a larger play was involved, and one was—saving Len's life from some unknown future, to get everything he could out of Barry for his own gain. But it wasn’t only that.

Lisa didn’t care about any grander scheme, not when she had a new necklace to fawn over, and after presents and warm drinks, she snatched up her phone to send Cisco a text. They’d been chatting often from what he could tell, even if they hadn’t snuck away for interludes the way Len kept having with Barry.

Not that he minded. Not that he wanted the interludes to stop. But it was tough sometimes when Barry curled around Len in bed, kissed him heatedly, and his hands began to stray, body pressing insistently closer against Len’s own.

Slowly, deliberately, Len would extract Barry, because if things got too heated, he feared he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. And they shouldn't. They _shouldn't_.

“You’re not really with me,” Len said as he often did, on that cold Christmas night with Lisa and Mick fast asleep in their rooms.

“Soon, I will be.”

Sometimes, especially if the Speed Force was involved, Len would forget for a breath or two when and where he was, and kissing Barry, touching him, felt right and familiar. He could have lost himself there, but the point of all this was to _find Barry_.

“Soon,” Len repeated back to him.

“I miss you, Len.”

“I know. It isn’t fair.”

“Then _touch_ me.”

Len wanted to, but instead he asked, “Where are you, Barry?”

“I’m here, with you.”

“Where? When?”

“20…um…” he couldn't answer clearly and cringed as he tried.

Not tonight. Len kissed him, deep and promising, but pulled Barry tight to his side to keep either of their hands from wandering. “Soon,” he said again, wondering when that might be.

“Merry Christmas, Snart.”

“You can call me ‘Len’, Scarlet. Anytime.”

“I love you, Len.”

 _Damn it_ , because those words made this harder than any others. “Merry Christmas, Barry.”

 

XXXXX

 

It wasn’t long after the holidays that Len met up with West and Cisco in Barry’s old lab at the precinct—which Len always checked anew to make sure it was free of bugs or cameras, disabling anything within range before they talked—to discuss the progression of their case work.

Cisco didn’t know yet that Wells was the one they suspected. He was too close to it and had no talent for lying, which he was well aware of no matter how much he might pretend otherwise.

Their investigations had led them to the old Allen house. The current owner had been easy to manipulate into letting them wander about considering how forward she was with her flirting, especially with West. The detective did the distracting, Len and Cisco did the scouring.

“Crazy as it sounds, those samples we gathered prove an adult Barry and some other man were there the night Barry’s mom was killed,” Cisco explained. Len had insisted that the DNA work be done here too instead of at STAR Labs.

“We already know time travel is involved,” he said.

“Sure, but…Barry’s right, there was some other guy there that night. His dad really was innocent. So who was the killer?”

“Who _is_ he. He’s here and we know the answer.”

“You already know who did it?”

“It’s better if _you_ don’t,” West interjected.

“According to Barry,” Len moved on before Cisco could pry, “there’s a body we need to find that will put everything into perspective. Once that happens, we’re going to need to move fast.”

“A body?” Cisco repeated with a wince. “Where?”

Len was always forthcoming with West about Barry’s hints of the future, unless they were personal and not for ears outside the two of them. They needed to work together to solve this, after all, even if Len could tell that West wasn’t fully on board with his involvement. Regardless, Barry came first for both of them, and for now, that thread kept them tethered.

“Time to call in some favors from our friends in Starling.”

 

XXXXX

 

Eobard gripped the sides of the terminal knuckle-white as he stared at the newspaper from 2024. Even now it remained the same—Iris West- _Thawne_ writing about the disappearance of The Flash, with Captain Cold’s involvement as Flash’s backup during an unknown crisis, and then both had vanished.  

It wasn’t the version of the article Eobard had been preserving from day one, but the important part was the same: Flash was gone at the correct moment in the future, ensuring Eobard’s fate. But how could he be sure when so many ripples continued to be made?

“Gideon, what about the rest of the timeline?”

“Too much remains in flux, Professor, to say with any certainty.”

“Then what _can_ you say with certainty?”

“That The Flash remains and The Flash will vanish at the appointed time.”

But was it enough? Eobard couldn’t wait any longer to see how this played out. He needed to confront Barry now and he needed to get home, back to his time where he could recover fully and move on to the next stage of causing The Flash endless misery.

It was time to make a move.

 

XXXXX

 

The day after Christmas, when Eobard went looking for Barry in the Labs, he wheeled along like normal to avoid suspicion. There were multiple ways he could play this. Kill one of them immediately to show Barry he was serious. Kidnap one of them to threaten them instead. Ready a pulse from his chair as a distraction so he could slap Barry with meta dampening handcuffs.

But when the first person he saw was Cisco, much as it pained Eobard, he knew that killing that boy in particular would set the perfect example for Barry. They’d become close, Cisco like a crutch for him. He would falter with Cisco dead and understand thereafter that Eobard wasn’t playing.

Readying to do just that—to kill Cisco quickly and adapt with the consequences to speed this along and find his way home before Barry could ruin everything—he came around the rest of the corner into Barry’s room…but froze as he saw what Cisco was looking at.

Another whiteboard diagram, but this one depicted a large cube and normal equations and dimensions to build it on clear Plexiglas. An example wall of the cube showed a spattering of Barry’s symbols.

“Barry, buddy, did you draw this?” Cisco asked as he stared at it, glancing at Barry doodling in the corner like usual. “Come on, man, I know you’re with me sometimes, just one time answer me direct. Did you draw this?”

Barry nodded.

“Sweet, man. Well, what do you want me to do with it?”

With a zip of lightning, Barry was at Cisco’s side. “I need you to build a time machine.”

 _What?_ The symbols…was there something about them that Eobard had been missing all this time?

“So you can draw that weird language on a cube? _Inside_ a cube? It wouldn’t be a real time machine, Barry, just a playhouse like a kid in a box.”

“Build it,” Eobard said from behind them, causing Cisco to startle as he whirled around and for Barry to grin.

“Dr. Wells? You sure? There are so many other things we’re working on, and this will take time—”

“Time is what we might be running out of, Mr. Ramon, and this is progress. Maybe, once again, Barry knows something we don’t.”

Whatever it was he knew, he still looked at Eobard with fondness, which almost made him take back his hesitation to kill Cisco. But no. No. This might be his ticket home without putting more of the timeline at risk. He’d continue the game.

For now.

“Build it.”

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, Mick also has a bit of Timelessness in him. 
> 
> I have more planned for the next chapter than can probably fit, but I'm still thinking around 12 chapters in total for this, so over the halfway hump now! Stay tuned.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Len can't hold out forever, and soon none of them will be able to prevent the tidal wave that's coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - sex happens. Tags have been updated, but again, I feel that dubious consent isn't necessary because of how things play out, but if anyone feels differently, I am happy to adjust that. In my mind, however, it is fully consensual just...complicated. Still, you've been warned that it is coming. 
> 
> Also, this is the first chapter that's gotten me teary-eyed several times...
> 
> Enjoy!

When Cisco was seven, if someone had asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, the answer would have been unironically: time traveler. Making a working time machine was one of his bucket list items that he knew could never be achieved, but damn would it be something if it happened.

Now he was making one. And all things considered lately, he had a sneaky suspicion that it might be the real deal. Not that it was an easy task regardless of Barry's diagram and blueprints. It had to open at one of the seams for Barry to get inside, be breathable once he was in so he wouldn’t suffocate, and be made of a specific material Barry wrote down that could conduct electricity, which was not easy to find. It was going to take Cisco weeks to get it all right.

Wells asked him not to tell the others what Barry had called the machine so they wouldn’t worry, which made sense. Everyone trusted that if Barry wanted Cisco to make something, it had to have a good purpose, but a time machine sounded crazy or at least frightening to most people. Still, it was odd. Wells in general seemed odd, which Cisco kept trying to dismiss. After all, Barry trusted him, didn’t he?

Even reuniting with Ronnie hadn’t garnered the response Cisco expected. Sure, Wells seemed pleased at Ronnie’s return and interested in his new state of being with Professor Stein, but he was also wary, scrutinizing.

If Cisco didn’t know better, he’d swear that sometimes Wells seemed…scared.

It didn’t help his paranoia that he kept having these déjà vu moments he couldn’t explain, where he’d swear something should have or would have happened differently. Residual temporal fallout from whatever had happened to Barry? Maybe, but it felt more personal. All Cisco knew was that he didn’t feel the same connection to Wells that he used to, and he wondered what all of this had in store for them. 

“Am I a time traveler too?” Cisco asked Barry while going over the blueprints once more, even though the materials hadn’t arrived yet to start building. “Is that why I feel this way.”

“You can feel the vibrations of the universe,” Barry said, lying on the floor of the workshop as if he were staring at stars.

“I _what?_ ”

“You can’t let your love for somebody cause you to be afraid of what might happen. You gotta take the good with the bad, no matter what.”

Cisco's phone buzzed on his desk from the number he’d recently labelled ‘GG'.

_Up to anything fun?_

“Was that advice about you, Barry?” he asked his friend. “Wells? Or Golden Glider?”

“Salted caramel’s her favorite.”

“Huh?” Nothing Barry said was ever truly startling anymore, though still strange. “Are you telling me to ask your criminal boyfriend’s criminal sister out on a date?”

“I'm just so happy to be back with all of you again.” Barry rolled into a sitting position, bright smile all for Cisco.

“You will be, buddy,” he said, despite the melancholy sting always close at hand.  “Whether it's from a time machine or whatever your symbols mean. I know it.”

He thought he understood why Barry had started drawing on flat surfaces, then moved to corners, and now wanted a full cube to cover. He needed every dimension to make whatever he was trying to do work, though Cisco still wasn’t sure _how_ it would work.

 _If you build it_ , he thought with a wry smile, then texted ‘GG’ the address to his favorite ice cream parlor.

_Half an hour?_

_You're on, cutie. Without chaperones this time?_

_Unless Barry tags along, absolutely._

 

XXXXX

 

Barry had not tagged along for ice cream, and as much as Lisa liked the boy, she was grateful to have Cisco all to herself. He was sweet, wicked smart, and a huge dork. Lisa hadn’t realized how much that was her type until it came in a petite package with long, wavy locks, the brightest smile, and graphic T-shirts.

They’d only talked about Barry and Len for the first few minutes, before leaving behind their day-to-day babysitting to get to know each other more than text messages allowed.

“You even knew my favorite ice cream flavor.”

“Technically I cheated. Barry told me.”

“I figured. You still listened.”

Now, heading back to the safe house, Lisa touched her pendant with a fond smile. Cisco made a girl want to rethink all sorts of choices, and at the rate things were going, that might even pan out into something tangible. After all, she had enough practical experience to be a certified mechanical engineer, she just didn’t have the schooling. Cisco spoke so earnestly about how they could get around that to skip other qualifications.

“If you’d even be interested, I mean,” he’d said. “You could help at STAR Labs. Or _not_. I’m sure badass femme fatale thief is far more exciting.”

“Not always.” Lisa had twirled the spoon around her empty ice cream dish, the clack of metal on glass drawing Cisco’s attention away from his nerves. “Gets lonely with just Lenny and Mick around sometimes.”

“There’s no one else…around?”

“Barry, I suppose. _You_.”

“A-And uhh…your brother wouldn’t have a problem with that, would he? Me being around?”

“If he did?” She waited for the inevitable backtrack. Len had scared away more dates than she could count even without trying.

“If he did…guess I'd have to tell him ‘Too bad. Lisa can make her own decisions.’ Though I might use Barry as a human shield after that.” He chuckled with a shy dip of his head, and Lisa was smitten all over again as she chuckled with him.

“Smart call.”

They were going to see a movie some night soon. If Len did have a problem, well, Lisa would give him a piece of her mind, not that she anticipated dissent when she could easily throw Barry back in his face.

Who apparently Len was yelling at right now because Mick should not be at this particular safe house tonight, and Len didn’t have other friends. Yet still, there were voices as Lisa entered, and Len’s did not sound happy.

“That right? Well you tell Vincent, assuming he doesn’t shoot you on sight for being such a poor tail, that these are my streets, and I’m not running for the hills this time. It’s a new world, and the Santinis need to fall in line like everybody else.”

Santini? _Vincent_ Santini? Shit. Lisa should have guessed this would happen. Len had been all about taking over Santini operations, but he’d been distracted, hadn’t even worked toward that art heist he and Mick had been planning. Apparently, Vincent decided to act first.

“And just in case there’s any doubt I mean business…” Len said in a low threat, followed by the whir of the cold gun and a timely scream.

A moment later, a man came rushing out of the main room for the front door, too focused on escape to notice Lisa hiding there as he held a frozen hand to his chest. Just a hand, which could likely be thawed and saved from any permanent damage. Even if the foolish runner was being sent with a message for Santini, someone like this walking into Len’s turf and tailing him to a safe house would have earned him an icicle to the chest a few months ago—or at least a bullet.

Then again, Barry had been quite adamant about the no killing policy.

“What are you looking so smug about?” Len asked when Lisa revealed herself with a slow slide into the room, arms crossed and head cocked.

“Nothing.”

“Seems a firmer hand might be necessary for our old friend Vincent to put things in perspective.”

“Meaning?”

“Mick and I need to have a chat about that painting before we lose our window. And if things escalate, we may need to pay Vincent a visit in person to ensure no one gets any ideas about me having gone soft.”

His expression certainly was hard tonight, but not from anger or cruelty. It was for her, for Mick, for Barry—that they could all be in danger if he didn’t take control. He was worried he didn’t know how to fix what was going wrong without falling into his old ways.

Drawing in close to her brother, Lisa said, “What if you did soften up a little?”

He glanced at her, just his eyes moving from where they’d been staring at his cold gun on the table. “If that was something I wanted…now wouldn’t be the time.”

“Keep up appearances, fine,” she said. “Just make sure Mick plays nice with Baby Flash when you do.”

He did of course, they both did when the night for stealing the ‘Fire & Ice’ painting came. Lisa kept out of it, but also kept close watch from the sidelines where she could have stepped in if necessary, tripped Len or Mick up to keep things even. It wasn’t needed though, because while Captain Cold and Heat Wave made a big show and had Kid Flash running in circles, they didn’t cause any serious burns or frostbite and still managed to get away with their prize.

Mick set it on fire and left it to burn on Vincent Santini’s doorstep. Pity. Lisa liked that painting.

 _Please tell me there’s a reason your brother stole a priceless painting tonight,_ Cisco texted her afterward.

_Lenny always has a reason. Have faith._

_Faith in Cold is a toss-up. In you and Barry…easy._

She smiled, contentedly back with Len and Mick at their newest safe house since the last one had to be ditched, though she did wonder how the fallout might be faring at STAR Labs.

 

XXXXX

 

If Joe ever got his hands on Snart…

 _When_ he got his hands on him, he reminded himself, since he doubted Snart had any plans to stop helping take down Wells when his own future hung in the balance.

But why did he have to return to his petty crimes and pull Joe’s son into it? Barry was already part of this, and Wally had been nicked by that cold gun before. Forcing Kid Flash to take on Snart _and_ his psycho partner with a flame thrower was too much.

The worst part was Joe couldn’t admit to the real reason he was angry. Only he, Barry, and Cisco knew Snart was helping with the murder case. He was _supposed_ to be a bad guy right now.

The most Joe could lament about, especially with Wells present, was, “I thought we had a _deal_ with this guy.”

“For Snart not to hurt people,” Wally said, “and he didn’t.”

“He still destroyed part of a city block to steal that painting.”

“Technically, there was no deal against that,” Cisco said.

“I don’t care who he did or didn’t hurt, I am throwing his ass in jail next time!”

“That would be the preferable scenario, Detective,” Wells offered.  

Having to meet eyes with the man and pretend he still trusted him sobered Joe immediately. Maybe Snart knew what he was doing. They needed time and for Wells to stay fooled long enough for them to stop him. If he really was a speedster, there was no telling how powerful he might be.

Barry had rambled a few details to give to Team Arrow about that body they needed, but nothing had turned up yet. They needed to narrow their search area. The trick was figuring out where to start.

There was a bigger picture to consider, Joe just hated it. He hated that he had to let his sons, his daughter, and all the rest of these people stay close to a cold-blooded murderer. Even so, Barry, who’d warned them about Wells, who’d dropped plenty of hints to lead their investigation, didn’t seem to mind the man’s company. Joe didn’t understand that at all.

For now, all he could do was play along.

“I knew trusting Snart was a bad idea,” he said, while internally he had a feeling that Snart was the one he’d have to trust most when this turned deadly.

 

XXXXX

 

After Mick torched the painting, Len joined him in returning to the safe house to appease Lisa that they were both safe, then went off on his own to get a drink and call it a night. He was always more relaxed after a heist, especially if he got to burn something, but that didn’t mean he’d skip a victory beer before bed.

Lisa was on her way out too for ‘plans’ Len assumed meant another date with Cisco. Just as well. He’d be interested to know if Cisco mentioned West being out for blood after tonight, though Len hoped the detective had enough sense to understand why he’d needed to send a message—on multiple fronts.

He was starting up a late dinner as Lisa said her goodbyes for the evening, but before she could make her exit, a whoosh of lightning arrived and Len had a helper at his side chopping vegetables.

“Aww, don’t you two make the domestic pair. I wouldn’t want to interrupt, but if you want my advice, honey,” Lisa said to Barry, hardly fazed by his appearances anymore, “don’t let Lenny pretend he doesn’t love every minute of having you around, and make sure he enjoys some post-heist afterglow, huh?” She winked before sauntering out of the room, which made Len scowl that she’d gotten in the last word before he could scold her.

 _Thanks for the advice_ , he remembered suddenly what Barry had said to her when they first met. Huh.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“I have to consume about 10,000 calories a day.”

“I remember.”

They didn’t talk much as they made dinner, or even while eating it. When they did, it wasn’t a true conversation. Len went over plans concerning Santini, getting a foothold in several neighborhoods, ways they could take down Wells when the time came, and Barry responded with riddles that only occasionally made sense.

The rest of the time they stayed silent, enjoying each other's company like Len rarely experienced with others. Barry’s close quarters, the way his knees bumped Len's beneath the table, made Len’s heart beat rapidly for want of more.

“Thank you for listening,” Barry said when they began to clean up, and while the phrase could mean several things, Len knew Barry meant it for him not killing anyone tonight, for not hurting Wally, for playing _nice_ , which was foolish at best, but Len couldn’t deny how much he’d enjoyed the past few months more than the several before that. Or before that.

Or before _that_.

“Don’t think me domesticated now, Scarlet.”

“Never,” Barry said, slipping up behind Len as he was putting away a washed dish. Warm hands slid around his waist, resting low, while Barry molded against his back and set his chin on Len’s shoulder.

Len trembled from the contact, the comfort of it, but it was the tingle of electricity that relaxed him.

“I love nights like this,” Barry said. “Just us. Calm, quiet, to balance the adrenaline.”

“Balance is…good.” Len brought his hands to rest over Barry's.

“There is a lot coming in the next few weeks before you find the body, before Cisco finishes the machine.”

“Machine?”

“I’m hoping it can keep everyone safer this time.”

Riddles again, even present in the moment with the Speed Force starting to surround them. “What about the body? Why not just tell me where it is?”

“All things in their time. There are others who deserve a second chance. I need to let their stories play out.”

“Ever the hero.”

“Just like you.” Barry mouthed at Len’s neck. Then his hands began to sink lower.

“Barry…”

“I remember a specific night, putting away dishes in the kitchen, holding you just like this. Do you?”

Len wanted to tell him that he couldn’t remember something that hadn’t happened, but in the Speed Force, with Barry’s lips on his neck and hands drifting down to touch him, the scenery in front of him flickered like a mirage, showing not the dingy safe house kitchen, but a nice apartment.

They bought it together after Barry asked Len to move in with him.

 _No_ , that hadn't happened. Not yet.

“I can think of something better to do than dishes,” Barry said, but it was future Barry, Len realized, falling into step with the shared memory, the kitchen flickering again as it tried to solidify into another time and bring them with it.

Len needed to stop it, but he couldn’t think, couldn’t—

“You always feel good in my arms, Len.”

He…had to…to…

What was he doing again?

Oh right. Barry cooked tonight so Len was putting away the dishes. He’d been feeling frisky waiting for Barry to get back from patrol since Len was on leave from the Waverider enjoying a few vacation days at home.

 _Home_. He’d wanted a real home for so long.

“And you always feel good holding me,” Len said, “but I’m not finished with the dishes yet.”

“They can wait.” Barry squeezed gently where his hands had fallen below Len’s waist.

“What did you have in mind?” Len pressed back into his body.

“Inappropriate use of extra virgin olive oil?”

Len laughed. “Could be fun.”

With a pleased hum, Barry's long fingers began to undo the clasp of Len's pants and slid smoothly into his underwear at the invitation. He knew just how to touch Len to draw things out while making his knees tremble with every caress.

Eventually, the hands retracted but returned slick. Olive oil worked nicely for several things.

“You’re making a mess of me, Scarlet,” Len said.

“Yep. And I’ve barely started.”

One hand stayed at the front, while the other moved to the back of Len's pants and dipped inside to smooth along the crease and tease his puckered skin. When, not long after, a careful finger breached him, Len whined and hunched forward to brace himself on the counter,

“I want to take you apart right here. Would you like that, Len?”

“ _Y-Yes_.”

Barry pushed in deeper, and Len struggled not to melt to the floor. He didn't used to allow this, not with just anyone, but Barry made it easy to show his vulnerable side and not be ashamed. With Barry, Len could be at ease. Receptive. _Loud_.

Stretching him further, Barry began to vibrate his fingers, causing Len to moan especially loud. It was slow, careful work that most people wouldn’t expect from the fastest man alive, but it was beautiful torture.

“I want to feel you,” Barry said, and while a brief thought of condoms passed through Len’s mind, he wondered why that would matter when they never used them anymore, committed to each other as they’d been for years.

Sticky and wet, Len’s discomfort ceased when Barry tugged his pants the rest of the way down and spun him around for a deep kiss. At some point he’d tugged his own pants down too because they clashed together, sliding smooth from the oil.

Len knew he was flush long before Barry hoisted him onto the counter and spread his legs apart, but it was Barry who sported a glow in his cheeks.

“You’re turning scarlet, Scarlet.”

Barry’s giggle was a melody Len never tired of. He tilted Len back, checked to be sure he was adequately stretched, and pressed forward, eliciting an eager gasp.

“Good?”

“Good.”

More like mind-blowing, but if Len praised Barry too much, he’d get a big head on his shoulders, and playing superhero did that enough.

Once Barry was pushed in to the brim, it felt like the first time again, full and complete and wholly on fire.

He started slow to be sure Len adjusted, but Len wasn’t fragile and wrapped his ankles around Barry's waist to urge him to go faster, _harder_. The noises that left him never bothered him when he was with Barry. Barry could be vocal too, and they were long past hiding anything from each other.

“God, I love your voice like that,” Barry huffed.

“I love _you_ ,” Len said, the words leaving him easily now when once that would have been monumental.

They’d been through so much together— _hadn't they?_ —that they were allowed this one perfect thing that was theirs alone. A crescendo that built and _built_ and made stars dance in front of Len's eyes as if he were in a different kitchen somewhere and not the one he and Barry shared.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” Barry said, weightier than ‘I love you’ and enough to make the flickers of that other kitchen more prominent just as the two of them finished.

Len’s breath caught on a gasp, because this wasn’t _like_ a first time, it _was_ their first time, and he’d succumbed to a too beautiful future and dragged Barry along with him.

The Speed Force remained around them as Barry mouthed at Len’s neck again with contented nips. “Guess we’re back.”

“I did that,” Len said, clinging to Barry while simultaneously feeling like he should pull away. “I shared that with you. How?”

“It’s okay. When you touch time and space and dimension enough, you can bleed between worlds. Most people can’t control it. I can’t, not fully. Definitely not outside the Speed Force. But you can.”

Len couldn't look at him, despite how good that had felt, leaving him just the right kind of sore. “I’m sorry,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Don’t be sorry.” Barry tilted Len’s face toward him, clear-eyed and blindingly beautiful. “Don’t be sad. As long as we both wanted it. Here. In the moment. You did, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“It’s 2015,” Barry smiled wide, “but when it’s 2018, we can live that moment again.”

There was hesitation in Barry’s lean forward, waiting to see if Len would draw away. He didn’t. He accepted the kiss Barry pressed to his mouth, even though he should feel disjointed, guilty, terrified that impossible words had left him while an enigma of a boy made him moan on his own kitchen countertop.

He felt an echo of those emotions as he said, “What a mess we’ve made of everything,” trying to play it off like he meant the counter when he really meant everything else. But his doubts washed away when Barry crowded in between his legs just to get closer and kiss his lips once more.

“Better clean up then,” he said, and the whirlwind that surrounded them took them away, only fizzling back to reality after Len and Barry were stripped and in Len’s shower under a spray of warm water with Barry holding Len to the tile and kissing him _again_.

A thrill reignited in Len’s belly, because this was a mess, all of it, but they were in it together.

The water washed them clean, and Len imagined their clothing tucked into the bag he brought to the laundromat. Safe houses didn’t tend to have washing machines. They continued lazily kissing, bodies entwined but not heating up for another round, just enjoying the feel of one another caught up in lightning that wasn’t bothered by the spray.

Still, water or not, eventually the lightning began to dim.

“I just need to hold out a little longer, and then, when this is over, can we try falling in love from the beginning?” Barry held him tightly and spoke against his lips as the last licks of lightning faded. “Can I keep you?”

Len dropped his forehead to rest against Barry’s. “Yeah, kid. You can. Then you’ll be a better thief than me for stealing something I never thought anyone could.”

He could see in Barry’s eyes the moment when clarity began to grow clouded, and he clung foolishly at Barry’s face as if he could hold his mind there too.

“No. Stay with me. Stay with me, Barry. Stay here. We can fix this. We can _fix_ you.”

Barry leaned into his touch, but his attention still drifted. “I know you think it’s silly, but I like the Captain Cold statue at The Flash Museum. Did you really have to steal the hockey cup again this year? You’re nothing like Lewis, you know.” He switched topics so seamlessly, Len almost forgot to feel the drop in his stomach at the mention of his father. “Your grandfather would be proud of you for turning away from crime to help people.”

There came the drop, because Len hadn’t done that, not really. Not yet.

He helped Barry out of the shower, helped get them both dry, changed them into clean clothes, and left Barry to his doodling in the corner of the bedroom as he went back to the kitchen to clean up properly. It took all his strength when holding the last clean mug he was about to put away to keep from hurling the damn thing against the wall.

Soon wasn’t enough, but it was the only promise Len had.

 

XXXXX

 

Iris could admit that the weeks following Christmas went by in something of a blur, lost as she was in what Caitlin called ‘engagement glow’.

“Speak for yourself.”

“I am. That’s why I know what it looks like.”

Caitlin and Ronnie were planning their wedding too, which had been interrupted a year ago. They were going to tie the knot sooner than Iris and Eddie, mostly because, despite the ‘glow’, Iris was hesitant to set a date until she knew Barry would be _Barry_ when he stood up next to her as Man of Honor.

The whirlwind was even crazier when her articles finally got her a position at Picture News. She had a front row seat to everything happening with Kid Flash, which gave her an advantage she was more than happy to exploit—since Wally loved being front page news and happily told her everything she ever wanted to know.

Writing about it all helped distance herself sometimes from how worried she was about her brother when he was out saving the city. Most of the time, Barry left Wally to his heroics, putting so much faith in him that the boy believed that much more in himself and rarely needed a hand. The rest of the time, Barry played his role in other ways.

Like keeping the inmates company.

Iris thought it strange at first, but when Hartley Rathaway was caught attacking Wells and then his family’s company, Barry sat outside his cell and sang to him since he needed constant noise to help his tinnitus and Barry had warned them that Hartley’s earpieces contained bombs and needed to be removed.

“Enough showtunes,” Hartley complained once, though Iris could tell he wasn’t being serious.

“Better than Cisco Rick-Rolling you,” Barry said. “I promise I won’t let him do that this time.”

Between Barry singing and talking to Hartley, and Cisco getting pulled in eventually too, they soon let the young man out of his cell. Cisco gave him new earpieces, and then Barry had whispered something to him that made Hartley’s eyes widen. He’d agreed to lie low after that and to help if they needed anything.  

Then there was Shawna Baez. Barry talked her ear off about love, which she’d thought she had with her boyfriend, but he’d been using her, and she’d let that draw her down a dark path that didn’t have to be her future.

“The Hybrid OR Caitlin gets you into is super cool. I wish I’d gotten to recover in a place like that.”

Apparently, Shawna was destined to be a nurse. They let her out eventually too, which was what they’d hoped for, to reform these ‘evil’ metas.

Sadly, many of them were still pretty terrible. Mark Mardon, for one, who had the same power set as his brother and came looking for him one day. Barry had been well ahead of that and told them where to find _Weather Wizard_ before he could be a lasting threat, landing him in a cell right next to his brother.

There were hints sometimes of other encounters Barry was having on his own, like the times Iris would catch him coming back from somewhere and he’d smell terrible.

“Barry, did you go into the sewers?”

“Friends in low places,” he’d whispered. “Shhh.”

She didn’t dare question what that meant. She was just glad for the new friends _she’d_ made, and not only Cisco, Caitlin, and more recently Ronnie, but also Linda Park at Picture News, an easy friend who had a lot of Iris’s same drive, and who she’d caught giving Wally the side-eye on more than one occasion.

“Do you need me to help him get his foot out of his mouth long enough to ask you out?”

“What? _No_. He is way too young for me,” Linda had said, but the dart of her eyes to the floor and the tug at her lips proved she didn’t mind the age difference that much. Iris might have to do something to help them along if Wally’s completely neurotic fumbling anytime he was around Linda was any indication of him liking her back.

The point was that time was flying, so much had been happening on top of Iris being engaged and lighting up every time she saw Eddie. She didn’t want to have anything hanging over them to sour their future, but she needed Barry, the whole and complete Barry, to be there with her when the time came. It meant she couldn’t quite get excited about planning anything for the wedding yet, and she knew that was hard on Eddie, which was one of the main reasons she’d come to the precinct today to take him out to lunch. She knew he understood why she was stalling to set anything in stone, but she still wanted to remind him just how much she loved him and couldn’t wait to be his wife.

When she didn’t find Eddie at his desk and noticed Joe missing as well, she headed upstairs to Barry’s old lab, where she knew she’d likely find them working on the Nora Allen case. Cisco had been helping too, but as far as she knew, they hadn’t gotten any closer to proving Henry innocent.

It seemed someone else was helping now, because a fourth voice could be heard as she neared the room to find the door open.

“You’re a liability, Thawne,” the other voice said, “storming in here, demanding answers when any other cop might be nearby.”

“I’m supposed to be in on this too,” Eddie said. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were involved? Or that all of you know who the killer is?”

“ _I_ don’t know who he is,” Cisco retorted.

“The less some of you know, the better,” Joe said, “at least until we have enough to end this. For now, Eddie, we need you to look after Barry while the rest of us—”

“While you what, exactly?” Iris broke in as she slid around the doorframe to find them huddled near the corkboard, with Barry sitting on the floor amongst them at the side of his desk, doodling symbols. “You do remember it’s best to shut the door if you’re playing vigilante, right? And who is…” She eyed the fourth man, who appeared to be an officer until she got a good look at his face. “Snart. Who’d have guessed you’d look so good in uniform?”

Barry’s hand rose into the air from where he sat on the floor.

Iris snorted.

“Joe and Leonard know who killed Barry’s mother, but they won’t _tell us_ ,” Eddie lamented. “They’ve known for weeks!”

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to call me that, _Pretty Boy_ ,” Snart growled.

“I’m sure there’s a good reason why Dad doesn’t want anyone to know the killer’s name yet if they’re still investigating,” Iris played Devil’s advocate for her father, much to Eddie’s chagrin. “So is the whole you hating Snart thing a ruse?”

“No,” Joe glared at the other man, to which Snart smirked back at him. “But sometimes we do what we have to, and right now I need one of you to take Barry back to the Labs so we can get back to work.”

“But I want to go home with you,” Barry joined the conversation, bouncing up onto his feet and moving toward _Snart_ as if none of the others were there. “Please, Len. I sleep better in your bed.”

_What?_

“ _What?_ ” Joe’s hands dropped to his sides in shock. “You _sleep_ with him?”

“Perfectly platonic and innocent, Detective, I assure you.” Snart pushed at Barry’s chest to keep him from embracing him like he seemed to want.

“Except for the mess we made in the kitchen,” Barry snickered.

A stiff silence settled over them like the calm before a tornado.

“Would you believe he meant by _cooking_?” Snart said.

“You touched my boy?” Joe stalked forward while Snart pulled Barry behind him like he was protecting him. This was bad. “You laid your dirty hands on _my son_?”

“The way I remember it, he laid his hands on me first.”

_Really bad._

Joe lunged, hauling Snart up by the front of his stolen uniform, but before anything could be said or blows dealt, Barry’s lightning flickered and Joe was across the room as Barry held out his hands in defense.

“I hate to break it to you, but that right there is called honor.”

“ _Barry_ …” Joe was still seething, murderous toward Snart, who teetered for balance after being roughly released from Joe’s hold.

“For our anniversary this year,” Barry spoke on earnestly, like he was trying to say something important enough for Joe to understand, “I want to take you somewhere you’ve never been before, Len. We’ll figure out how to keep your clothes from catching on fire, I promise.”

Iris saw the surprise on Eddie’s face at the mention of ‘anniversary’ in relation to Snart, but Cisco looked guilty more than anything. He’d _known_. Iris was going to have to have a talk with him.  

“Would it help if I said please?” Barry kept on, constantly in motion to block Joe’s path. “It's all I've got. I’m still singing the same tune. There's good in him, I promise—”

“Barry, stop,” Joe cut him off. “I don’t even know if you’re talking about Snart. If you’re talking to me. If you’re even _here_. You’re never here, Barry.” The distress in his voice was palpable, everything about him so tired, more worn than he’d been letting on.

“I’m here.” Barry nodded, even as he clutched at his head, fingers twisting into his hair. “I’m here, near, _dear_. Look, getting powers is overwhelming.”

“Barry—”

“It’s 2016! I’m _here_.” He smiled so hopefully at Joe as he dropped his hands from his head.

“It’s 2015, Barry,” Cisco said sadly from the sidelines.

“It’s…2015?” Barry turned to him, expression dropping as he started to back away, hands returning to his strands of hair. “It’s 2010. It’s 2003. It’s 1990. It’s 2000. It’s 2024. It’s 2046.”

“Barry,” Snart said quietly as Barry neared him, but Barry twisted around and started backing toward Iris instead.

“I’m Barry. I’m _Barry_. I’m Barry Allen. I’m everywhere. I’m all the time. I want to come home. Dad, please, can’t you come home?” He spun around just as he reached her and through his tears she knew that he was partially with them as he looked at her. “All I know is you're everything to me, and you always have been. And the sound of your voice will always bring me home. But his did too,” he said with tears filling his eyes and making him sniffle as he fell forward into her arms, and she accepted him gladly, unsure what else to do.

The others looked on in silence, tenser than before and saturated with sorrow. As Barry sobbed into Iris’s shoulder, Snart eventually met Joe’s cold expression.

“I know how this seems, Detective, but we have a…connection.”

“Don’t _even_ …” Joe snarled.

“No fluff,” Snart tried again, struggling to explain himself when it meant being open. “Just truth. Sometimes I can see the future too. I can _be_ there, even though I can’t explain how. I don’t understand what’s happening to me, but Barry and I are connected. He stays with me often, that’s true. The night of my last heist, we gave in to what we wanted.”

Slowly, Joe moved toward Snart again, standing his ground with a calmness that Iris wished she wasn’t familiar with, because when he was like this, nothing could reach him. “He is in no state to tell you what he wants.”

“At the time, I thought—”

“I don’t give a _damn_ what you thought,” Joe said, then cast a sharp look at Cisco and Eddie as if in warning to clean up this mess for him before he turned for the door.

Iris stood in his way holding Barry, but when he tried to touch Barry’s shoulder, Barry burrowed further into her arms. Joe looked close to tears himself as he bypassed them to storm out of the room and give himself air. He’d return before long, she knew. For now, he needed space.

Honestly, Iris wasn’t sure how she felt about Barry and Leonard Snart having midnight rendezvouses, but they had larger concerns than Barry’s devotion to a criminal, however misplaced some of the team might find it.

Once Barry was calmed enough to return to his drawing, mumbling to himself now, too shaken by what had happened to talk fully, Iris closed and locked the door behind her, crossed her arms firmly over her chest, and addressed the odd trio before her. She wasn’t fazed by Snart staring her down; she was hardly going to be intimidated by Eddie or Cisco.

“Now, who wants to tell me everything else I’ve missed?”

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments mean the world to me.
> 
> Also, if anyone is concerned that I glossed over Hartley and Shawna too much, that's because nothing would have happened differently with their captures really other than Barry talking to them once they were in the Pipeline, but what comes next will be different, and there are likely POVs for both of them in the near future. 
> 
> Thank you!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is almost...up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this fic, and what surprises me...is I might be able to finish it in one more chapter. Seriously! So stay tuned, I'll know more as I work on it. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Somehow, while Eddie had initially barged into the old CSI lab with a bone to pick with Joe—and then with Cisco and Snart once he learned they were working _together_ —now he was being stared down along with them by Iris. He hated getting on her bad side, especially now that they were engaged, love of his life that she was and occasionally terrifying.

“I’ve been good!” Eddie raised his hands in surrender, while Cisco did his best blowfish impression and Snart rolled his eyes. “Everything I know, you know, I swear, which was only that Joe was working the murder case. I didn’t know _this_ ,” he gestured between Cisco and Snart, then more pointedly at _Barry_ and Snart, “or that.”

“I knew about that.” Cisco repeated the gesture. “Well, not the dirtying the kitchen part,” he wrinkled his nose.

“I figured as much.” Iris stalked toward them with a bob of her eyebrows for Snart to chime in anytime.

“If you think the tough girl act will work on me,” he scanned down her body as if thoroughly unimpressed, “you need to meet my sister.”

Oh right.

“You have a sister?” Iris balked.

Eddie only knew that from Snart’s files. Lisa Snart didn’t have a record.

“She’s _awesome_ ,” Cisco said with a dreamy look on his face, only for him to realize he’d said that out loud as everyone stared at him. “I uhh…might be dating her.”

_What?_

“Dating?” Snart stood taller.

“I thought you knew!”

“Didn’t realize there was a label to it.”

“And what’s the label _here_?” Iris completed the round of Snart-to-Barry gestures and waited for an answer. Snart was an imposing figure, sure, but he stood no chance against Iris.

He didn’t seem to actually mind that Cisco was dating his sister—and wow, had Eddie missed some important developments—but focusing on Barry instead of defending himself made the thief shift gears like he was only clinging to smug standoffishness out of self-preservation, when what he really wanted was to be honest like he’d tried with Joe.

“Apparently, I’m a lost cause in the future where it concerns Barry.” He glanced at nothing to make it easier to admit that. “All sappy and domestic, even.”

“You can see that? The future?” Iris asked.

“Don’t know how. Something about having touched too much time and dimension, he said.”

“And in the future, you’re together?” Eddie asked. He’d barely met Barry before the accident, couldn’t say from experience what Barry was like or the type of person he might be interested in, but he definitely wouldn’t have guessed _Leonard Snart_.

“Sorta together now, which makes me the worst kind of predator, doesn’t it, only I don’t like that label at all.” Snart’s eyes clenched tight, and when he opened them, he looked raw and vulnerable. “He’s with me sometimes. Here, I mean. _With me_. I never would have…” He couldn’t say it, and despite Joe’s outburst that Snart had taken advantage, Eddie could see in the man's face that he hadn’t intended for that, however things had gone down.

“This is too much for any one person to understand,” Iris said, softening now that she’d gotten her answers. “You’re risking a lot for Barry just by being here, and for whatever reason, the future or fate, he trusts you. That’s enough for now. Anything else I need to know?” She glanced between Eddie and Cisco.

Cisco had a few things to add, but Snart did most of the talking again, explaining what they’d been working on with Joe. Snart still refused to spill the beans on who the killer was though. 

“Can’t risk it, not yet. The man in yellow, as Barry calls him, is too dangerous.”

An evil speedster was a scary thought, but now Eddie got the impression that it had to be someone they knew, and that terrified him more than any scowl from Iris. Who could be that cruel to be anywhere near Barry after murdering his mother, hiding in plain sight?

“What about that painting you stole the other night?” Iris asked.

“Had to keep up appearances,” Snart shrugged, as if breaking the law and costing the city thousands in property damage was no big thing. “The Santinis started sniffing around, thinking I’d lost my edge since I hadn’t been in the game much after sticking around town. They could be trouble. Kid Flash hasn’t had the pleasure of encountering them yet, so they think they’re invincible. My move was a start, but—”

“But it would work better if they got a little meta fear put into them?” Iris smirked the same way she did when getting invested in a particularly juicy story.

“Uhh…” Eddie tried to get ahead of this.

“What are you offering, Miss West?” Snart smirked back at her.

No, no, no, no, no.

“I’m a reporter now. Maybe I leak to my contacts at STAR Labs some insider information about where the Santinis might be conducting illegal business, if anyone here happens to know that,” she grinned wider, “then Kid Flash can better change their tune.”

“Then we'll call the cops for clean-up?” Eddie tried again, prompting both of them to look at him with equally diabolical expressions.

“Eventually,” Snart said.

It didn’t help that Cisco lit up like he liked this idea.

“Teamwork?” Snart returned to Iris.  

“Then when you and Dad are ready to catch this guy, you bring _everyone_ in. Deal?”

“You strike a hard bargain, Miss West. I like it. I’ll make sure dear old _dad_ loops you and Pretty Boy in about the case work,” Snart said, making Eddie grimace at how much that nickname was sticking, “assuming he doesn’t shoot me the next time he sees me, of course.”

“I'll talk to him,” Iris said. “We all know it’s complicated with Barry. Not that I’m saying I _approve_ , this is…hard to wrap my head around.” She looked at Barry like she was trying to puzzle it out, imagining him and Snart _together_.

“But you’re not calling for the lynch mob just yet?”

“Not today.”

“I know it might seem like a cruel joke,” Barry spoke up for the first time since Joe had left, popping the cap back onto his marker and standing from beside the desk, “but it would actually hide Len better if you sat him at the singles table.”

They all stared for a moment.

“For the _wedding_?” Eddie finally asked.

“If Barry gets Snart, I get Lisa!” Cisco called, entirely genuine.

“There will be no attendance of any weddings for a CCPD—”

“But Len, I wanna dance, chance, _Lance_ ,” Barry stuttered as he zipped to Snart’s side, pushing on regardless of his cringe and the press of his palm to his temple. “You'd need superluminal energy to send someone through time. It’s almost _time_.”

Snart sighed and reached for Barry like instinct, like it was comfortable and familiar between them, and Barry sank into his arms as easy as breathing. Eddie felt a pang of sorrow for them, because Snart was being so gentle, patient and understanding—like he _understood_ —and wasn’t that love in a nutshell? Embracing each other's madness and seeing through it?

“I hope so,” Snart said, then released Barry and cleared his throat with a glance around the room, daring anyone to comment.

Barry looked so happy, Eddie was close to giving that blessing Iris wasn’t so sure about yet, and he looked at her to remind himself of all the reasons he was the luckiest man in Central City because he had that same closeness with her.

“As far as teamwork goes, I think I need to give my sister a call,” Snart tapped Barry’s chest in a gesture of farewell and turned for the door. “Though if you two become fast friends,” he said to Iris as he passed, “this world is in serious trouble.”

 

\-----

 

Cisco did not imagine that his next night out with Lisa would be a double—more like _triple_ —date with Iris and Eddie, _and_ Barry and Snart.

Technically, it wasn’t a date. They were doing covert teamwork where they wouldn’t risk Wells disapproving, since Snart had insisted they keep this between them—and Kid Flash and the other helpers, not that any of them knew Snart and Lisa were involved. Wells and Caitlin knew what Wally was up to since they were running comms; they just didn’t know that the intel had come from someone other than Cisco.

The six of them sat in a Chinese restaurant with a suspiciously low amount of CCTVs in the neighborhood, which Cisco was fairly certain was one of those fronts for money laundering, and watched footage on the tablet he’d brought along while Snart provided the comm feed that he’d been wired into ever since Cisco gave him access ages ago.

“Wells bought the lie?” Snart asked him.

“I said I had a date with a gorgeous woman. Me looking spooked and fumbly after that was expected.”

“I don’t know about that.” Lisa smiled at him. “You’re smoother than you think.”

“R-Really?”

“Focus, please,” Snart said. “Piper and Peek-A-Boo know what they’re doing?”

“They’ve helped out a few times,” Iris said. “Boo has no love for the Santinis, and Hartley wanted to test out some upgrades to his gloves.”

“They got this,” Cisco added. “And I can send Hartley a message separate from the comms if anything goes wrong.”

Which was still weird—Hartley being part of the team, cooperative and even nice on occasion—but every time Cisco thought to second guess it, Hartley came through for them.

Nothing _did_ go wrong, thankfully. Kid Flash, with backup from former meta criminals, took down the Santini casino like a pro. It was hard for any goons to make a run for it when Boo could be at every exit in seconds. Hartley disabled the electronics to prevent anyone from calling for help, and Wally wrangled up the perps to be left for the CCPD. All in all, a job well done.

“I figured Firestorm might be overkill for mobsters,” Cisco said, turning his tablet off.

“Did you name every meta in town?” Lisa asked.

“Everyone except Hartley.”

“He hates it when they name themselves,” Barry said to the napkin he was drawing on.

“I have a better knack for it, that’s all. Though ‘Pied Piper’ is pretty good,” Cisco admitted.

Now that the ulterior motive was complete, they were left to their food, and then it _really_ felt like a triple date.

Eddie was being extra cozy with Iris, which kept making her cast curious glances at him that always ended in this fond look or shift closer against his side. They were sickeningly sweet, really, which Cisco would have loathed if he didn’t have one of the most gorgeous and fascinating women he’d ever met attached to his arm as she cooed over the engaged couple.

“I have _got_ to see that ring again.”

“As long as it’s still on my finger at the end of the night.”

They both laughed. Quick friends indeed, just as Snart had predicted. He didn’t seem to mind though.

“Smart move tonight, West,” he said. “The Santinis will be even less of a problem for me now, and Kid Flash and team gains a little extra klout with the Central City families.”

“I didn’t only suggest a team-up for that,” Iris said.

“Nothing wrong with getting a story out of the evening as well.”

“I didn’t mean that either. We make a pretty good team.” Iris leaned toward Snart since she sat across from him between Cisco and Eddie. “If you have a future with Barry, then you have a future with all of us. We should get used to that.”

Scary as Snart could be at times, Cisco felt the same way, and not only because he had Lisa. It felt right for Barry and Snart to be together, he could tell, deep in his bones—feeling the vibrations of the universe maybe, like Barry had said.

“So you expect me to hang up my gun,” Snart feigned challenge, “or at least change its targets? Play hero full-time?”

“I expect you to be part of the team,” Iris said. “That’s what Barry would want. Besides, everything we do isn’t strictly legal all the time.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Eddie put in, “though…she’s not wrong.”

“The same old tune then,” Iris beamed, fully in control of the table, “or the greater good? It’s a matter of choice, Snart. Unless you don’t see a place for yourself here.”

Damn, she was good.

Lisa nudged Cisco’s shin beneath the table and smiled as if to say she wanted that, she saw herself here and believed her brother had to feel the same. Cisco still almost wouldn’t have believed it until Snart glanced at Barry before answering.

“If you’ll take a couple train wrecks into this merry band, I think we’re right where we want to be. Right, sis?”

Lisa clung to Cisco all the tighter. “Much better perks on this side of the line.”

“What about Rory?” Cisco asked.

“Make that a few train wrecks,” Snart said. “Hard as it is to believe, Mick can’t say no to Barry either.”

It should have been awkward after that, having _dinner_ together—a cop, a reporter, two thieves, an engineer, and a headcase, like the start to a very bad joke. Barry only half participated in the conversation, but the rest of them got along surprisingly well without him.

“If you join the force wanting to kill or catch bad guys, you're not a good cop,” Eddie said at one point. “It should be about wanting to help people, and sometimes that includes the criminals. The more we add to our ranks on Team Kid Flash, the more this feels right to me.”

“He always this much of a sap?” Snart said, and they all laughed.

Eddie blushed a little, but Iris kissed him and all was well.

As the evening wore on, Barry started humming an unfamiliar tune, and at one point Cisco could have sworn he made out the words, “Super Friend.”

**\-----**

Greater good, huh? Len didn’t feel like too much ‘good’ had been rubbing off on him lately, not with the way West looked at him like the crud on the bottom of his shoes when their paths crossed after the blowout at the precinct. Sometimes that’s what Len felt like—lower than dirt. But over the weeks since he and Barry had been together, Barry only gravitated closer to him. He never acted like they’d crossed a line. He also didn’t push for a repeat performance, understanding that Len didn’t feel right about it.

Len and West didn’t talk about what had happened, but Iris must have said something to him, at least enough to keep him from shooting Len on sight, because whenever Barry was with them after that, if he stuck close to Len or pressed a kiss to his cheek, West would sigh and keep on like he hadn’t seen a thing.

Had Len taken advantage of Barry that night? Had Barry taken advantage of Len? Had they just gotten caught up in each other and memory and _time_ that it was as simple as being what they both wanted? Likely that, but Len still wanted to be 100% certain before he allowed it again.

Guilt wasn’t an emotion he dealt with often, but when it came to Barry, several fresh feelings stirred in him, longing for things he thought he’d given up on when he was a kid still thinking he’d crawl out of his father’s shadow.

He had, hadn’t he? Finally. He didn’t have to live in the darkness when the light kept beckoning him.

It made him want to conquer his powers before they had the chance to conquer him. And that meant bringing someone else into the fold. He decided that the best way for introductions would be to have Barry with him.

He explained to Barry what he wanted, allowed the kid to phase them into their quarry’s apartment, then sat in the recliner and waited for the dramatic moment when Doctor Snow got back from work.

“Beat your fiancé home tonight, doc?”

Caitlin jumped, hand gripping her keys like a weapon, before she noticed Barry rummaging in her kitchen. “ _Barry_ , what are you—”

Barry answered by flashing into the room with his spoils for a snack and sitting directly in Len’s lap like he couldn’t imagine a cozier place to be.

Len didn’t try to push him off, but calmly explained to the good doctor what many of the others already knew. Then he went into detail about his time-bending abilities, hoping she’d have some ideas.

When she finally responded, she was sharp and precise. “For starters, I’m going to need a blood sample. Luckily, I carry a kit in my purse.”

She seemed more upset that she hadn’t been included sooner, though Len assured her that she’d only missed the news by a day or two compared to most of the group.

As it turned out, he wasn’t a meta. What Caitlin did discover was traces of the Speed Force in his DNA, though not the same as for Barry and Wally. Len was unique, and it wasn’t something that would go away.

Knowing that made it easier to try to access his abilities on purpose. Sitting in a safe house, alone, _always_ alone, Len tried over the next few days to exist in moments he remembered from his past, like spending a quiet afternoon with a thirteen-year-old Lisa, getting ice cream with his grandfather, or getting drunk with Mick when he turned twenty-one.

He was hesitant to visit moments in the future, but he knew after the first few attempts that he was safe in present day when he time-walked and couldn’t alter anything directly. He could only witness events as they had happened or would happen in the moments to come.

 

\-----

 

At least interrupting the Santini casino and giving them a scare with Hart and Boo at his side had been fun for Wally. Hired goons were easy. All he had to do was dodge bullets.

The Trickster, however, was worse than most metas, willing to hurt innocent people with his bombs. Thankfully, no one _had_ been hurt, and while the young man’s face had momentarily been broadcast to all of Central City, a flicker of yellow lightning had interrupted anything more, causing most people to assume that Kid Flash had raced to the rescue just in time.

Only Wally and the team knew the truth. Barry got there first and brought back another prisoner for the Pipeline.

“But he’s not a meta. We can just turn him over to the police.”

“Clozapine not haloperidol,” Barry said.

“What’s that?” Wally asked.

“Those are antipsychotics,” Caitlin said. “Barry, will Iron Heights give him the wrong medication?”

“My mom and I read this when I was little,” Barry said as though answering her directly. “Do you know it, show it, sow it?”

“Your…mother?”

“Crazy runs in the family.” Barry nodded.

 _Axel’s_ mother, he meant. It wasn’t difficult to prove that Axel Walker was the son of the original Trickster who’d plagued Central City twenty years ago, but finding his mother would be tougher. Barry seemed to think that she and the right meds could help Axel though.

Just like with several of the others, Barry spent hours talking to the disturbed young man, and even when Barry made no sense at all himself, he seemed to be a comfort to Axel who’d so desperately wanted for his father to accept him, for anyone to accept him.

It made Wally proud to call Barry brother, and on occasion his partner. Barry didn’t think of himself, always of others, so much a natural hero, even if most people outside the Labs had no idea how much he was part of Team Kid Flash too.

Wally had long since stopped feeling like he was waiting to be replaced by Barry. They’d always be a team. He wanted Barry at his side someday in his own suit more than anything, even though what they had now was enough to make him smile every day.

Wells, on the other hand, seemed annoyed by Barry’s attempts to talk to the inmates, despite it being the whole reason Hart and Boo were on their side. Wells had seemed off to Wally for a while now, quicker to harsh words or detachment from the rest of them. It gave Wally a faint sense of ‘wrong’ whenever he was around Wells, which was ridiculous, Wells was the whole reason Wally had this life, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

Maybe it had to do with Barry and Snart being a weird… _thing_ , though maybe not, since Wally was pretty sure Wells didn’t know. Wally wasn’t supposed to know either, but he’d picked up on enough things outside the Labs to be sure something was going on between them, and it definitely revolved around Snart caring about Barry. That was weird on its own, but at least it meant Wally didn’t have to worry about getting hit with the cold gun anymore—he hoped.

Wally wasn’t the only one having a hard time trusting Wells. Hartley didn’t seem to either. One day, Wally overheard him say so to Wells’s face.

“I think you wanted to be right so badly, you didn’t care if you caused a catastrophe, so no, I don’t trust you, but I trust that the people here want to clean up your mess, and I’d rather help them than be a coward like you.”

Wally didn’t hear Wells give a reply, remaining hidden until Hartley stormed out of the Cortex. Wally liked Hartley. He was a cool guy, if a little sarcastic and snotty at times. It was certainly better to have more metas on their side than against them, but that encounter gave him pause he never quite shook.

“Truly, you and Barry are wonders,” Professor Stein said, there to train one day and ensure he and Ronnie didn’t blow up any time soon.

“Says the guy who can set on fire,” Wally said.

“Ronald is the one who showcases our pyrotechnics, Wallace. I am merely an added mind to lead us in the most prudent direction.”

“It’s still pretty cool though.”

“Quite the opposite, I dare say,” Stein smirked.

“Was that a _heat_ joke?” Wally laughed. “Professor, look at you!”

“Well, when saving the city on the regular and conducting scientific discoveries, one can’t be stuffy all the time. I feel like I learned that from someone once.” Stein glanced away in contemplation. “You remind me of him, Wallace, but for the life of me, I can’t recall who he was…”

“A student?” Ronnie prompted, though his face looked stiff in concentration since they shared a psychic connection.

“Perhaps. I never was good with names or faces, though I am getting older, you know.”

Wally liked having so many people coming and going at the Labs, but even Stein and Ronnie quieted whenever Wells entered the room, like they didn’t feel they could speak freely around him. STAR Labs belonged to Wells, Stein was a colleague, and Ronnie had worked for him like Caitlin and Cisco, but still, he’d become the outsider, and he didn’t seem to be trying to fight it.

Even Bette was returning more lately, since their combined forces had several fresh ideas about how to help her control her powers. With Hart and Boo added, they were turning out to be a real…coalition of heroes. Most of the city-saving was left to Wally, but it felt nice to have backup.

Barry must have agreed, because he mentioned they’d need a mechanic at some point, not that anyone knew what he meant—they had plenty of engineers around—but he answered their queries by patting Stein and Ronnie on the back and saying, “Three doesn’t have to be a crowd.”

“What on earth could he mean by that?” Stein asked.

Wally figured it meant their extended family would just keep growing. It made it easier, even as his mom continued to get sicker, knowing he’d have so many people around to care for him after she’d gone.

He just wished he understood why Wells was pulling away when everyone else was growing closer.

 

\-----

 

Ray had no idea why he was accompanying Felicity to Central City when they weren’t a couple anymore. Things had ended between them before they ever really began. Sure, the two of them clicked. Easy friends, lots in common. It was the first time since Anna that he’d felt hope for finding someone who could make him feel happy again. In a romantic sense. In any sense. But it hadn’t been right.

Ray didn’t have other friends. He tended to come on too strong. So when Felicity asked him to tag along to Central City because she wanted him to meet some of _her_ friends, he’d agreed, Atom suit and all, especially since those friends were made up of Team Kid Flash.

Before they left, Felicity had prepared him for Barry. He sounded fascinating to Ray, though he needed to work on not saying anything accidentally inappropriate about someone with brain damage who might be a secret time traveler or might just be nuts, no one was entirely sure. Ray still didn’t quite get why Felicity had asked for him though.

“Because you want to be a hero, Ray, and Oliver isn’t the only one who can teach you a thing or two. Besides…Barry’s mentioned you a few times, so I think it’s time you met.”

So many smart people believing that Barry was more than crazy had Ray excited to meet him, and once he did, he was certain he’d found himself in a _Doctor Who_ episode. They simply needed to figure out the answers. There were always answers.

“I want to save everyone,” Barry said to Ray when they were first alone, “but it’s not really everyone. I can’t save Mom. I can’t save Anna. I’m sorry.”

A chill shivered down Ray’s spine. “Time travel’s tricky, huh?”

“If I could…”

“Thank you, Barry, for even wanting to.”

It was weird, but Ray felt closer to this man he’d just met than almost anyone, like he knew Barry, like he’d known him for years.

“So, what are we facing?”

“Bees.”

Ray laughed, until he realized Barry wasn’t joining him. “Seriously?”

Queen Bee wasn’t the worst villain Ray could have gotten his feet wet on, but it did not endear him to insects much. The crazy thing was how many new friends he’d found in Central City in such a short time while working to improve his suit.

Cisco, Caitlin, Wally, Hartley, even Wells, though he wasn’t the warmest of men. Ray was having a hard time wanting to head home, but it was when he and Felicity were saying their goodbyes and Barry grabbed his wrist and said “ _Stay_ ” that he decided he could benefit from a few days off.

“You go back without me, Felicity. Maybe I can find some other ways to help. I trust Palmer Tech in your capable hands.”

Barry insisted on dinner with Cisco that night, which sounded perfect to Ray, but when he asked about inviting others along, Barry seemed adamant that it should only be them.

Once they were in the STAR Labs van, Barry began giving Cisco directions, to which he groaned as if he knew exactly where Barry was taking them and didn’t approve.

“With _Ray_ , Barry? Are you sure?”

“We gotta keep this buddy system going.”

“Okay.”

Ray was bouncing with excitement now. Barry was like the conduit to a sci-fi novel. Anything was possible with him, and Ray didn’t even know half of what was going on or what Barry had done so far—or what that weird cube Cisco was building was for that no one else seemed to understand—and went along for the ride willingly.

Though it was a little odd that where they ended up was just some seedy bar.

Barry went right in and headed for a back booth where Ray could see—

“Oh my god. Is that Captain Cold?”

“Yep.”

“And this isn’t weird to you?”

“Ray, buddy, I think your life’s about to get a lot weirder.”

Barry slid into the booth like nothing was out of the ordinary. Snart didn’t seem to think so either.

Cisco, ahead of Ray, stopped when he got to the booth and, looking at the other side, must have seen someone sitting there because he looked a little harried and said, “I’ll get a chair.”

Ray came up in Cisco’s absence to find the burly figure of Heat Wave sitting across from Snart, who looked startled but not entirely unwelcoming, more like curious once he saw Ray’s face. Ray was curious too, because he’d seen some of the news footage surrounding Cold and Heat Wave, but seeing him in person made him certain they’d met before.

“Hi, I’m Ray!” he said cheerily, slipping into the booth next to Rory—or Mick, wasn’t it?

“Yer the one who likes musicals,” Mick said.

“I love musicals!” Ray exclaimed. But how did he know that?

Snart, for his part, gave a small sigh, but wore a fond smile for Barry. Cisco pulled up a chair a moment later and stole some of Snart's fries like he did it all the time.

“Hey, Sherri!” he called to the waitress, just as his phone buzzed and he pulled it out to check his messages. “The usual for us too, please.”

Ray certainly wasn’t going to say no to more friends, even if they were supervillains.

“So.” He looked into Mick’s scowly face that didn’t seem nearly as unfriendly as the man was trying to portray. “You like musicals too?”

 

\-----

 

So _that_ was Ray. Wonderful. Len had a sneaky suspicion that Barry was playing matchmaker again. Though after meeting the man, he supposed Mick could do worse than Ray Palmer. It seemed the Rogues were all doomed to fall for Boy Scouts.

Len hardly had the chance to care, however, since Cisco announced that Felicity had contacted him on behalf of Detective Lance.

“Looking into that, uhh…car accident? Seems it finally paid off.”

“Then you and West better be on your way to Starling first thing tomorrow.”

Ray tried to pry into what they were talking about, but Len wasn’t in the mood to babysit. He could leave the entertaining to Mick.

The thought of having finally found something on Wells as the man in yellow made it impossible to sleep that night, even as Barry curled around him and dosed off as easily as ever.

The next day, alone in the safe house once more, Len couldn’t help being anxious, and dared test his abilities again to sneak a peek into the future just an hour ahead to see if anything had been revealed.

That was all, just a peek, but when he did so, he found himself at STAR Labs. He’d sworn off going there for fear of giving the game away to Wells, yet there he was talking with Barry, who wasn’t projecting the Speed Force around them but was somehow still sane and whole and flirting with Len playfully like he’d finally come back to himself.

Barry was _back_ , would be back, in only an hour’s time.

Len returned to his body all at once, and all he could think about was getting to STAR Labs as quickly as possible.

 

XXXXX

 

The machine Cisco was working on wasn’t finished but it was close. If it had been something Eobard could have figured out for himself, he would have completed the build on his own, but he didn’t understand the purpose, didn’t know how to place the symbols he expected Barry to write on the interior walls. He had to be patient and wait for Barry to show him the way.

That meant continuing the charade no matter how difficult it was getting as STAR Labs grew more and more crowded. Even Ray Palmer was around now when he should have been in Starling.

Then _Snart_ , who hadn’t shown his face since his last heist, appeared to interfere again where he wasn’t welcome. He never showed up in any of Eobard’s surveillance, which had to mean he wasn’t simply lying low and of no consequence as Eobard had hoped but avoiding being detected on purpose.

As Eobard hid in the sidelines of the Cortex, he watched Snart walk right into STAR Labs looking for Barry. Barry was there but something wasn’t right, Eobard realized, since it was too well-played that the others were all out, yet Barry was at Cisco’s terminal as if he’d been about to look something up on the computer.

“Snart!” he stood abruptly.

“ _Barry_. I know it’s dangerous to be here, but I had to come. I saw this. You. Is it really you?” Snart reached for him, for Barry’s face, with far more emotion than Eobard had ever heard of for Captain Cold.

“Of course it’s me,” Barry said, relaxing into his touch. “Who else would I be?”

“You’re here? You’re really here?” Snart grasped his face with both hands.

“I’m here. You seem so spooked. Are you okay? I’m fine.”

“But how? How are you with me?”

Barry paused, brow furrowing as he thought of how to respond. “After everything you’ve seen me do, did you really doubt me?”

“Never,” Snart said, then laughed in such an uncharacteristic way, Eobard wondered if he was looking at the real Snart. The history books never spoke of him as endearing or affectionate. “I just had this conversation, you know? I saw it, peeking into the future.”

“You did? And what did you see next?” Barry asked, a small glint in his eyes like invitation. They were both smiling, Snart holding Barry’s face as they drew together and _kissed_ as if they’d met mouths a dozen times before.

Fury boiled inside of Eobard hot enough that he nearly bolted out of his chair to attack Barry right that moment, because this, _this_ was the reason everything had changed? _This_ was why Snart had been added to the article from 2024, why Iris was with Eddie, why everything was set on a tilter wheel?

And worst of all, it wasn’t even Barry that Snart was kissing.

An explosion of lightning erupted before Eobard could make his fury known, ending in the real Barry holding _Hannibal Bates_ to the wall across the Cortex. Shapeshifters really were the worst.

Bates must have gotten out of his cell, swapped places with Barry, and tried to find an easy exit only for Snart to arrive. Eobard checked his interface with the STAR Labs computer from his chair. A massive surge of energy had exploded in one of the cells, no doubt Barry overloading himself to such a degree that he’d short-circuited the power without shorting any of the other cells. That would have taken precision of the Speed Force that even Eobard couldn’t manipulate.

“You wouldn’t hit a girl, would you?” Bates said, shifting seamlessly into Caitlin.

Barry reared back and punched the meta in the face, knocking him out cold. As he fell to the floor, he shifted back to normal, leaving Barry to pant as if he’d been truly afraid for Snart for a moment, while Snart looked on in shock and eventual recognition at what had happened.

“I promise I won’t tell Snow how easy that was for you,” Snart said.

Barry laughed. “She would have dodged,” he said and zipped into Snart’s arms to kiss him properly. None of what Eobard had witnessed was a lie, even if it had been Bates playing into what he thought Snart wanted.

Snart was the key to everything, just as Eobard had feared in the beginning. He _knew_. He had to know everything, which made him the most dangerous adversary of all.

The only thing keeping Eobard from killing Snart that moment as he’d once been prepared to kill CIsco was that the time machine wasn’t yet complete.

As soon as it was, he’d act.

 

\-----

 

“Joe, who does this body belong to?” Cisco asked. “I think I deserve to know now that I’m staring at a skeletal hand sticking out of the dirt.”

Joe couldn’t waste time hating Snart. Barry had given them clues about everything. If he didn’t care about the thief, didn’t trust him, he would have let them know, which was the only reason Joe had left it alone even if he didn’t understand.

Now, none of that mattered, because the body they’d been after had finally turned up.

“Joe?” Cisco pressed. “Who is it?”

“The _real_ Harrison Wells. The other version killed Barry’s mother and has been impersonating Wells ever since.”

Cisco reared back in horror, but when his shock faded, the expression that remained didn’t look surprised to learn this, merely resolute that several things finally made sense.

“What do we do now?” he asked.

“We get home, as quickly as we can. Looks like we’re finally out of time.”

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are the best gift you can give.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trap for Eobard is sprung, and Barry's plans are all revealed for maybe not the ending he wanted but the one he was destined to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...I think this is one of my favorite things I've ever done, and your responses to it are part of why. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy how this ends.

Snart thought he slipped away before being noticed, but Eobard had seen everything he needed to. And what was it the thief had said about peeking into the future? That was troubling too, another puzzle to decipher.

Barry wasn’t making any more sense than before. He’d seemed as though he might be for a moment after their kiss while Bates was on the floor, but then the same usual ramblings began to sputter from his lips, and Snart sighed with the realization that nothing had changed.

They put Bates back in the Pipeline, Snart made sure someone would be coming soon to keep an eye on Barry, and then he left, trusting that Barry could take care of himself for a time. He could, of course, not only by eating and keeping himself clean and dressed despite the beard he’d grown, but he’d proven he could defend himself.

When Eobard wheeled into Barry’s room a short while later where Cisco was building the time machine, he was drawing his symbols in the corner like usual. He hadn’t touched the glass walls of the cube yet, inside or out, waiting for it to be finished, which it very nearly was, Eobard was certain.

He watched Barry for a while, waiting for some sign, some word thrown his way, some clue, but when nothing happened, Eobard put the break on the wheel chair, gripped the arms, and pushed upward. Slowly, he walked toward Barry, and only then did the boy pause in his work.

“Eobard…” he said quietly, causing Eobard to clench the fists at his sides.  

Barry pivoted and put the cap back on his marker, and Eobard felt a spark at his heels, ready to fight, to defend, to launch himself at Barry if he tried even one—

But Barry didn’t stand or rush forward. He finished pivoting and fell back to sit against the wall, posture relaxed as he looked at Eobard with a kind smile.

“Hi there,” he said as though speaking to a small child. “Do you like The Flash statue?”

The breath escaped from Eobard’s lungs.

“No,” Barry answered an unasked question, “he wasn’t that great or untouchable. He was just a man. All heroes are. Just a man who tried his best, like you can be too.”

“Shut up,” Eobard said, zipping over to loom above Barry. “That never happened…”

But even as he said it, he remembered—a man, older than this Barry Allen, crouching down beside him at The Flash Museum so many years from now but so many years _ago_ when Eobard was just a boy.

_I wish I could have met him._

“If you ever do,” Barry said in the present, “I hope he doesn’t disappoint you.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Eobard spat more heatedly. “You can’t swindle me, Flash. Tell me what you’re planning. Why is Snart involved? How? What is it about him? What did he mean that he can see the future? Tell me! What do you _want_ —” He cut off at the echo of voices coming down the hall.

In seconds he was back in his chair, and Barry got up onto his knees to return to the wall, just as Caitlin and Ronnie came in.

“Oh! Doctor Wells,” Caitlin said with a start to find him there. “Is everything all right?”

“I wonder what face you'll be wearing next time we meet,” Barry said to the wall, and Eobard fought a sneer, knowing full well Barry was still somehow, somewhere, some _when_ , speaking to him.

“Very little progress with Mr. Allen today, I’m afraid,” he said and wheeled past them before anything more could be said.

 

XXXXX

 

Cisco wasn’t _jumpy_. He was afraid for his life, never knowing when the super powerful psychopath who'd been lying to them for years would vibrate a hand through his chest. Jumpy didn’t do that justice.

They had the body. They knew for sure that the real Harrison Wells was dead. But Cisco had to finish the time machine. It would be easier to do that if his nightmares weren’t haunting him in the light of day now of that vibrating hand and sometimes _worse_ things. How many other Ciscos in other timelines or even universes had failed to stand up to this man? Cisco wouldn’t be another one, he refused, even if he didn’t fully understand what was going on.

But what happened when he finished the time machine? It had only been a day since they found the body, but it was all moving faster like Barry had said. Cisco could finish the cube in minutes and another vision assaulted him of carnage and lightning and Barry sobbing in the center of it all because his mother’s killer had won.

Gasping for breath, Cisco left the Labs under the guise of needing one more part to make the finishing touches and seriously deserved an Oscar for how he smiled at Wells before heading out.

He knew where he wanted to go but feared being followed. Then, before he could second guess himself, he was whisked away by Barry's familiar speed, only blinking awareness when he’d reached a safe house with Lisa and Snart. They never looked startled anymore when Barry pulled things like this.

“What’s wrong?” Snart asked after scanning his face.

“He's going to kill us all,” Cisco said. “If I finish the machine. _When_ I do. He's gonna… I saw it.”

“Calm down, honey,” Lisa came forward, taking Cisco’s hands in hers. “Your visions?”

He nodded. He’d told her all about them. “If I stall, he'll know. What do we do?”

“This is what I need to free my dad,” Barry said, coming forward to stand in front of Snart.

Snart always understood Barry’s riddles better than anyone. “We have the body. That means we can get your father out?” he asked, and Barry smiled brightly. “That was the only missing piece I was worried about. If the machine is ready, it’s time to bring everyone in.” He caught his sister’s eye, then turned to Cisco, looking serious and immovably resolute. “Everyone.”

 

XXXXX

 

Barry was a _trip_. Cute and crazy, just the way Hartley liked ‘em. Sadly for him, Barry was spoken for, which seemed odd, since in all seriousness, Barry wasn’t all there. But when he gathered them at a large building outside of town, he clung to Leonard Snart's arm like he was permanently attached.

Cisco and Snart had sent the word out, but Barry had personally retrieved many of them, and after several lightning flickers in and out of the warehouse, there were well over a dozen people present.

“Avengers assemble,” Cisco muttered.

“Really?” Wally asked—Kid Flash himself, unmasked.

“You can’t save the world alone,” Barry said, squeezing Snart's arm tighter.

“What’s the deal, Snart?” Rory asked more loudly, staying near Snart along with Glider and Peek-A-Boo.

“Is this everyone?” Professor Stein asked from beside Ronnie and Caitlin. “Does Dr. Wells need assistance to join us?”

Some of the crew had rather visceral responses to that question, like West, his daughter, and Pretty Boy Thawne. The people Hartley knew the least had to be the woman who could blow things up with a touch and the oversized Boy Scout with the shrinking suit.

Cisco held up a tablet to display Felicity Smoak, currently running Palmer Tech, and Oliver Queen. Quite the entourage.

“Wells won’t be coming,” Snart said, taking point, which was also a surprise, but then no one seemed to question it, not even the detectives. “Barry,” he turned to the young man and grasped either side of his face in an openly intimate gesture to hold his attention, “I need you to cover everyone, all right? We need to be safe from prying eyes and ears, and they won’t believe it if it’s just me. Only for a few minutes. You can do it.”

Barry reached up to cover Snart’s hands with his own. “Like a lightning rod,” he said and from the core of his being a spark began to form and slowly expand, startling at first, though Snart didn’t seem pained to be encapsulated in sudden lightning when it shot outward.

The dome quivered after it was full, but it was through their connection, through touching Snart, Hartley realized, that Barry was able to expand the bubble further with a pulse to fill the entire warehouse and everyone in it.

Rory and several others flinched, on guard, but it was then that Barry drew Snart's hands down and kept one held in his own as he turned to address them. His eyes were clear and centered like Hartley had never seen before.

“Did you just cure his crazy by holding _hands_ ,” Hartley said, “coz that, oh Captain, my Captain, is one queer trick.”

The audible groan from Cisco made the pun entirely worth it.

“This can’t cure me,” Barry said, like a whole, complete person for once, “but it can give me a few minutes of focus. I’m sorry for how much I’ve worried all of you.”

“Barry?” Iris stepped forward with a gasp. She lunged to hug him, but he could only return it one-armed since the other hand had to hang onto Snart.

“It’s me. And I can stay this way, soon, but I need all of you to help.”

“Anything,” she said, and while not everyone expressed the same sentiment as deeply, no one looked ready to leave.

Hartley shouldn’t be so devoted to a man who’d merely talked nonsense at him and _sang_ , but there was something about Barry that had coaxed him to listen and to try another method when he’d been so angry at his parents for rejecting him, and angry at Wells for disappointing him. Now Wells was excluded in this little get-together, and Hartley wondered how deep it went.

He did not expect the answer to be that Wells was actually a time-traveling imposter. That was a new one. The fact that none of them doubted Barry for even a second said quite a bit about how he'd connected with everyone in the room over the months since he woke from his coma, and a few admitted to Timelessness of their own.

Snart was no surprise, but also Cisco, Palmer, Stein, and Rory.

“That seems unfair.”

“Just be happy the reset button changed you,” Cisco said to Hartley. “You were a much bigger dick the first time.”

 _First time?_ Barry wasn’t the only _trip_ , it turned out.

“You people are out of your minds,” Hartley said with arms crossed and a scrutinizing stare. But when all eyes were on him, he grinned. “So how do we help?”

 

XXXXX

 

Len didn’t get nervous before a job. He felt elation. A thrill. But today he was scared because he had more to lose than his life or freedom by getting thrown in jail.

They had precious little time to build a plan within Barry’s Speed Force cocoon before Wells would start to wonder where everyone had gone. They had to act, today, and every single one of them would be at risk.

Cisco’s job was the hardest, because he had to return and finish the machine as if he was excited instead of terrified, and he wasn’t the best liar. He wore an extra set of comms so Len and several others could listen in. Barry was with him, doodling on walls like always. Wally was there too, but holding back in a different room, pretending to train while ready to zip in if a speedster’s powers were required, which they would be times two.

Wally wasn’t as fast as Wells, because originally Barry hadn’t been either, but now he should be, and with everyone else helping, that might be all they needed.

Len would have been fine to storm in and aim his gun at Wells’s head, but Barry wouldn’t have it.

“I can save him too. I have to try,” he’d said.

Len could feel it in his Timeless bones that Barry Allen was always like that—the martyr hero, too good for his own sake, ready to put others first every time. Len knew better than to try to fight it, though some of the others tried, Queen in particular.

He and Felicity would be in person instead of over a tablet when the time came, having left Starling the moment the plan was decided. The rest were on standby in the Labs, just outside of it, or close enough to get there when they were called.

Wherever Barry was trapped, this could be what set him free, what pulled him out of the Void he still had one foot in, where Len was certain now that he must have been once too.

“I remember sometimes, what it was like to be unmade,” he said when the lightning in the warehouse had fizzled to nothing and the others started to depart. “I won’t leave you there, Barry.”

“I'm gonna set him free, and I'm not leaving here until I do, view, _you_ ,” Barry said, but instead of pressing a palm to his head in his faltering, he fell forward and let his forehead press against Len’s. “If you wanted to get away, you should've taken something faster than a train. I already do. I already _do_.”

Len knew Barry was trying to tell him more than gibberish, but it was enough motivation to succeed.

Now, listening in on the comms, Len rolled his eyes at Cisco's attempts at small talk with Wells. The bastard had been in the room with him since he returned from their group powwow. Either he suspected treachery or he was just that vigilant. Neither was a plus for them.

Len’s entrance would be through the garage of STAR Labs with Lisa, Mick, Shawna Baez, and _Raymond_ , who was hidden in one of Mick’s pockets in his Atom suit. It wouldn’t be long now before the trap was sprung.

“Just have to tighten this last seam…” Cisco said. “Looking the way you imagined it, Barry? If this thing’s really a time machine, maybe we can do something about those embarrassing photos on your Facebook page, huh?”

The tremor in his voice gave him away, but Wells hadn’t called him on it yet. Then again, he didn’t need a head start if he sensed foul play. If they weren’t one step faster when it counted, Cisco would be the one to pay for it. Luckily, their plan provided him the perfect bodyguard who could be there in a blink.

There was no whir to signal when the machine was ready, just a shuddery sigh from Cisco and the words, “I guess that’s everything. Want to get inside, Barry?”

“I think I’ll take a turn first,” Wells said, and it might have been completely innocuous from anyone else, but from him it sounded threatening and that was the only cue Len needed.

He was at the room already, the others tight behind him, many others in positions nearby, and he peered around the corner to see the machine glistening in perfect clear glass like nothing more than a box to play a game in like a toddler would enjoy more than the toy inside. There was Barry in his corner, Cisco at the cube, and Wells in his chair, ready to strike.

“I think Barry gets to go first,” Cisco said.

“Something to be nervous about, Mr. Ramon?” Wells asked, the threat slipping into his words again, hardening his expression as his hands slid to the armrests like he might push right out of the chair.

Cisco flinched, which Len knew was the only tell Wells needed to know he’d been made.

“ _Now_ ,” he hissed, and Peek-A-Boo blinked into the room to grasp Cisco’s shoulders then away again just outside the door where they took off running for the Cortex.

Before Wells could give chase at lightning speed, brighter lightning surrounded him with Barry grasping him from behind, halting him two feet out of his chair, and Wally zipping in to confront him head-on.

Len could admit that despite their numbers, everything after that happened faster than he expected.

Wells phased out of Barry and Wally’s hold like a phantom, then came back with a fierce punch across Wally's jaw, sending the boy soaring across the room to strike the opposing wall.

Cisco came over the comms that same moment. “Round two! No room for error!”

The Cortex had Caitlin on standby for injuries, while Iris, her father, and Detective Thawne held back, waiting for a moment when it might be safe to intervene. The real fight was up to the metas and to Len's Rogues.

Stein and Ronnie had been down a different corridor and came in next, reaching to clasp hands and merge as Firestorm, but Wells knew better than to allow that. Throwing Barry off of him, he was between the pair in seconds, bursting them apart toward different corners of the room.

Len forced his team to hold back. They had to be careful, smart, look for the right opening, and let their fellows pull their own tricks.

Like _Queen_ , who raced in past Len, while Felicity joined Cisco on comms, watching it all from the monitors.

Queen shot an arrow at Wells that burst open at the last second as a net to catch him or at least trip him up, but as expertly as a dancer, he blurred to let the net pass through him, then pivoted, grabbed it as it flew past him, and hurled the net back at Queen.

“Exits are all on lockdown if he tries to run!” Felicity said, but Wells didn’t look like he planned to go anywhere.

They needed to get Barry into the machine. They’d hoped Wells would have let him in unknowing, but they hadn’t been foolish enough to truly believe it would be that easy. Now the goal was to immobilize him long enough for Barry to do whatever it was he had planned with his symbols.

Len fired interference while Queen got untangled, the others trying to shake off being treated like ragdolls, and Barry attempted to grapple Wells again. The right burst of ice at least made the mad speedster second guess his steps.

Then Queen had another arrow, one that sparked this time, and he took a desperate aim that easily could have hit Barry. It didn’t, but Wells still caught it and stabbed it into Wally's shoulder when the boy zipped forward once more to help.

He cried out and fell with a shock rippling through his body. Iris and Detective West's voices echoed over the comms and from down the hall in their alarm. At what point was Len allowed to say screw it and shoot to freeze, to _kill_? But he knew he wouldn't until the last possible second because Barry had asked him not to with such pleading.

Dangerous as Wells was, Len ducked inside at last with Mick and Lisa fanning out along the walls to keep their distance, Len inching closest to the cube. Stein and Ronnie tried once more to connect, but Wells was too much for Barry to hold him while in such a rage, and he threw the pair apart with more force, enough that Stein would have been seriously injured if not for his connection to a stronger, younger man.

Flames erupted from the end of Mick’s gun as he chased Wells with a trail of fire to lead him into a path that Ray was telling him, so that at just the right moment an itty-bitty Ray enlarged to normal size with a well-placed punch.

Or it would have been if Wells didn’t expertly dodge and drive a vibrating arm toward Ray’s chest before he could raise his hands in defense.

Mick’s fire took a sharp turn back to Wells but didn’t get to connect because _Hartley_ arrived to intervene, blasting Ray and Wells both. Ray was down, but for the moment, so was Wells, shaking his head to slough off the buzz of a sonic boom. He recovered faster, however, speedy healer that he was, and even as their numbers converged to take him on together, he snarled like he was ready to strike the first killing blow on whoever touched him next.

Len stared at the certainty he saw in Wells’s eyes, like slow motion unravelling, like what it must be like for Wells and Barry and Wally, only for Shawna to return before it could escalate, with Bette this time, appearing at the cube right where she had blinked away with Cisco.

“One more move and I blow this thing to pieces!” Bette cried, hovering an uncovered hand above the machine.

Everyone froze, Barry included, giving those who had been down the chance to rise, but that hesitation cost them, because Wells wasn’t taking any breathers. He took off only fast enough for another speedster to follow, a tool in his hand when he appeared in front of Bette, something long like a crowbar that he struck across her face, the skin contact enough to start the reaction from her powers, which he threw toward the people near the door.

A bright burst of light encapsulated it in a shock of gold from Lisa’s gun, and while it gave a poof with the explosion, it was muted and uneventful, causing the clump of gold to clatter to the floor.

Wells all but roared at how they worked together, all of them against him, his eyes wild as he screamed out a name Len knew wasn’t going to respond the way the man expected.

“Grodd!”

A true roar sounded, and for a moment, Len expected something prehistoric to burst up through the floor. Instead, it came like galloping from the opposite hallway where Stein and Ronnie had first entered, and when it appeared, it was too large for the doorway and cracked the sides during its powerful push inside.

Len had known, more or less, from some of Barry’s rambling who the final member of the group was, but he hadn’t expected what it would be like to see a giant gorilla in close quarters.

Wells looked at them triumphant, but the large beast grunted and held back from attacking.

 _Brother speaks truth_ , a resounding voiced rumbled as if right into Len’s mind. _Father only lies._

The rage that appeared on Wells’s face at those words was the exact desperation that might make him deadly, no matter how many of them there were or how powerful, but Barry was there once more, grabbing hold of him in the brief startled moment where Wells realized he’d been betrayed. This time Barry seemed to have him, maybe only because Wells was tired and could no longer phase, or because Barry was in step with him even when he tried.

“Len!” Barry cried, nodding toward the machine.

Barry was the only one who could hold Wells, and maybe not for long. Did he mean for Len to use the machine himself?

“I don’t know the symbols!” Len said.

“Yes, you do.” Barry smiled, sweet and strange and wonderful like always.

Len dove for the cube while the others circled Barry and Wells, Cisco following along and telling Len how to get inside over the comms. Shawna had already helped Bette get away, leaving the path there free, and Wally zipped to where Barry’s marker had been dropped so he could toss it to Len just as he scrambled inside and closed himself in.

He should have felt silly scrunched in something even smaller than a five-by-five cell, setting his cold gun at his feet and popping the top on a marker to write nonsense on glass while a battle raged outside, but as soon as he was sealed in, he realized how silent it was, even with his comms. Maybe it was the material, the shape, the nanomachines throughout giving off pulses of tachyons, or all of the above combined, but Len was alone despite what he could see through the glass.

At first, he waited for the symbols to merely come to him—was that what Barry had meant—but when they didn’t, when he couldn’t sift through the madness to remember the sequence, he realized he didn’t have to remember or squint toward the distant wall where Barry had written symbols most recently. He could be in those moments, the many moments in Barry’s presence, watching him write the symbols again and again.

Len had practiced enough now that it was easy to fall into a calm state and project himself _when_ he wanted—his kitchen with Barry writing on the counter, his bedroom where the walls were all covered, so many napkins and other surfaces at Saints and Sinners—Len could see them all and began to write in present day even as he existed simultaneously in the past.

He didn’t have to think, and without trying, he soon pushed into the future too, where Barry was teaching that same language, the equations, the _code_ to a young pair of twins that looked suspiciously like Iris and her kind-hearted detective.

Maybe in those moments, Len was more like a speedster, connected as he was, strangely, differently, to the Speed Force, because in the next moment that he blinked, he was surrounded and the work was done. Every wall of the cube was scrawled over to cover the glass, even beneath him.

He turned toward where he’d last seen Barry, unsure what to do next or what to expect, when lightning, red and yellow mixed, headed directly for him in a jumble that phased right into the cube to join him.

Len’s breath caught and everything froze for half a second before it erupted as though Bette had touched the cube after all.

When he blinked again, he was on his back, free of the cube because the cube no longer existed. They were in the Void now, but the storm was calm, symbols hovering in the atmosphere like afterimages expanding outward the way Barry's Speed Force bubble had expanded until everyone who'd been in the room or out in the Cortex was there with them, displaced, but similarly stationed to how they would have been in STAR Labs.

And in the center of it all was that lightning, almost orange in the mix of color, but the victor in the end was _gold_ as Wells flew back with arms flailing to tumble onto his ass much like Len had but on the opposite side, while between them stood a beacon that formed brand new the way Len only truly understood in his Timeless memories.

The lightning around Barry burst outward to form a suit as expertly made as anything by Cisco but from the Speed Force itself—head-to-toe red with accents in gold—as he stood, lightning symbol proudly displayed, _finally_ , as The Flash.

 

XXXXX

 

_My name is Barry Allen. And I am the fastest man alive._

The voices dimmed, the chaos cleared, so much more powerfully and completely than any stolen moment with Len.

The Speed Force did indeed howl as Barry shed his chains, but still it bent, as he knew it would, and gave way to its creator’s will with a sneer like it resented that it, alone, was not enough. It was so much, but not everything. Barry needed more. He needed everyone with him here today. He’d known how to achieve that, but he’d needed them all to play their parts.

Now, he stood before Eobard as his true self, the suit Cisco had once (would once) design manifested from his heart and soul and his connection to something more than himself. None of the others had costumes. Not more than a parka, though the Atom suit was close. Firestorm had never connected, and Wally hadn’t wanted to take the time to don his when the enemy was in their midst.

It was only Barry who stood out, stood above the rest, above Eobard and all his manipulations. But to stand above was not his place. It wasn’t what he wanted. Even now, despite everything he knew, everything he’d been through, everything he would go through again, Barry wanted nothing more than to stretch out his hand.

So he did, quite literally, reaching to help Eobard up, while they remained momentarily encased in a private space built by science and will and loopholes.

“You’re free now,” Barry said, aware of the awe in some of the others’ faces. “You can change your own future, change this present, without consequence. That’s what this is. It’s all I ever wanted, to reset everything we all did wrong and try again. There will be no ripple effect from this moment, no disaster or paradox by anything changed. If you want, you can go home and live an entirely different life, just like I’m going to live mine.”

It came as no surprise that Eobard did not take Barry’s hand, but he’d still hoped.

The man hurried to his feet at normal speed. The code was unique to Barry. No corrupted connection to the Speed Force could exist here, only a _Flash_ and those held most dear.

“And if I go back to ensure you suffer for the rest of your days?” Eobard spat.

“Then I’ll beat you. I’ll always beat you. But I am offering you the chance to be saved with everyone else here. I loved you once,” Barry said honestly as he took a careful step closer to his counterpart. “Like a father, a mentor, a friend. Even after I found out the truth, I was never able to hate you.”

Eobard’s hands shook as they clenched into fists. “You have no idea what’s ahead of you.”

“I know exactly what’s ahead of me,” Barry said. “Zolomon. Daveau. This wasn’t only about you. It was about them too. About all of it. I figured out the equation to beat them so that not even _The Thinker_ will see me coming. He’ll lose just like you did—again.”

“It never works out that easily,” Eobard snarled, angry that Barry would dare challenge the natural order, regardless of how often and thoroughly he had done the same. “There are consequences to messing with Time—”

“I know. Maybe some I can’t predict, but whatever happens next, I’m happy. You couldn’t take that away from me.”

Eobard seethed in his powerless state, like he would rip Barry apart with his bare hands if he could. “I won’t stop. I will never stop.”

But hearing that didn’t scare Barry or anger him in turn. It saddened him with a great loss, wondering what might have been, if there was anything he could have done differently, but all his meddling still left it up to the people he connected with to make up their own minds.

“I wish you had some of that little boy in you,” Barry said, remembering a time to come when he’d try one last time to reach Eobard.

“So I'd worship you like a fool?” he said.

“So you'd realize you were wrong. You hated me because you couldn’t _be_ me, but you could have been better. You could have been part of a legacy. I’d still have you as part of this family even now. Always.” Once more, he reached out with Eobard barely a full arm’s length away.

Still, he didn’t accept it. “The Flash _family_ ,” he said like a curse. “You’re a fraud.”

Slowly, Barry let his hand drop and thought of everyone around him from friends and family to another half he hadn’t even known he was missing until he got this chance to start again. “The only one pretending here is you. It won’t change the truth.”

“Which is what?”

Barry smiled and meant it with every part of him. “I still forgive you.”

The howl that ripped through the Void was more wounded than Barry could understand, but he couldn’t change what someone else chose for themselves.

Eobard rushed him, as fast as a too-human man could. Barry didn’t fight, but let him paw and push and claw at him like an animal unable to accept defeat. He was too lost in his own loneliness and rage to hear the gasps that trickled through the others watching. He didn’t know that someone new was on the approach. Maybe a few of the others who had touched enough Time and other worlds understood that they were in the presence of Death, but Eobard didn’t feel it until a black-clad hand gripped his shoulder.

He spun, but there was no escape from what he found there. The Black Flash was always ready to bring speedsters home, and those who meddled with the natural order were not treated kindly.

“ _No_ —” Eobard tried to cry out, to turn back to Barry, but it was too late and he was too slow.

The lightning around the Black Flash was different, maybe faster than anything since Death was the one constant, and in seconds, they were gone, leaving only Barry at the center with the others circling him.

He’d meddled with Time too, many times, too many, but at last, all he’d done was put things right, and so he was left alone to put the timeline and the world back in order.

As he turned to take everyone in, he came to face Len, who’d been just behind him and who stood now ever in awe as the bubble burst, the work of the code completed, with STAR Labs rematerialized around them.

In the moments that followed, those who were in the Cortex came running to join them in the room that had been Barry’s for months and were soon in the doorway. Barry was so happy to see them all, to be there with them as himself for the first time in so long. But one face still held his attention.

Pulling the cowl from his head, he stepped toward Len and couldn’t help but grin. He had a feeling the beard didn’t quite work with his mask. Maybe he’d shave it. Maybe he’d think of something new so he could keep it. He might have to ask Len’s opinion on that.

Certainly he wished things had ended differently, that he could have saved _everyone_ , but he was here now, and he’d fought for everything he had.

“Well, what do you say, _Cold_? Can we start again from the beginning?”

“No,” Len said.

“No?”

“No,” Len said again, small smile quirking at his lips. “You make me want to be a better me. I don’t need to start over to fall in love with you.”

He came forward and grasped Barry’s face in gloved hands like this was the first time he was being granted the gift of daring to steal a kiss, and in some ways it was.

Their lips met, and Barry felt more grounded than ever before.

A few hoots and hollers responded, one of which was definitely from Hartley, but Barry merely laughed, because it wasn’t a perfect ending but it was a happy one. Even Joe didn’t look too disapproving when they pulled apart.

“Does this mean we can finally get a drink?” Mick called over the others starting to chatter and move in on Barry to embrace him. “Coz I could use one about now.”

It was a whirlwind from there, but then, that was what Barry was used to. Even Grodd allowed a hug, or more like a tight squeeze of his arm and stroke at his fur before Caitlin was there, excited to see him and talk to him, something Barry knew was all Grodd needed to find his place eventually too.

“There are other worlds that need our help,” he said before long. “And other people right here in Central. I want to do everything I can to help all of them.”

“Like who?” Shawna asked, more curious than some because she’d been a strange case that Barry had wanted to help once too.

“Young metas who don’t know what to do. Good people who have hard times coming their way. Even a washed up PI who needs a second chance.” He chuckled as he remembered the specific examples he had in mind, which he knew might fade at the forefront of his mind as this new timeline solidified. “We’re a team now, all of us, and we’re only going to keep adding to our ranks every member of this family who hasn’t joined yet. We’re practically a _League_ ,” he chuckled at the joke, though no one quite got it other than Len, who eyed Barry like he could almost sense the tease of the future in his words.

There was celebration to be had, but there was also work to be done, which needed to start with a meta wing at Iron Heights so they could rid the Pipeline of its remaining occupants, though perhaps Axel might find a home elsewhere if the medication continued to help.

“First though,” Barry said, ready to shed his suit for now and be himself again for a while, “we’re going to get my dad out of prison.”

 

XXXXX

 

Henry was fully aware that he had missed quite a bit in the weeks and months since his first visit with a strange, disjointed Barry. All that mattered to him though was that today he was getting out because a body proved that Harrison Wells was dead, and the man’s will left everything to Barry, including a video confession of having been the real murderer of Nora Allen.

If it had been less than well over a decade since Henry was locked up, he might have resented the man, might have hated him, but all he felt was relief and some mild trepidation over what to do next as he strode out of the Iron Heights gates to the car waiting for him with Barry leaning against it.

They hugged, and Henry almost worried he was squeezing too tightly, despite how strong he knew his son was.

Before he could say anything, he noticed the shadow of another figure in the car, but he could tell it wasn’t Joe.

“Who’s that, slugger?” he asked.

“I think you might have met before,” Barry said with a sly but happy chuckle and a nod toward the prison. “When he was in there too.”

“Snart?” Henry finally recognized the dim profile through the glass.

“There’s a lot to tell you, Dad. But I promise I will tell you everything. Come on.”

 

XXXXX

 

Len wasn’t sure what he expected that first night when a speedster in a STAR Labs sweatshirt had interrupted his fun. Or when that same boyish figure had slid in beside him at his booth in Saints and Sinners. He certainly hadn’t expected to have what he had now, which was a second chance maybe. A new life certainly. And a man who loved him miraculously.

Along with the promise of tomorrow.

Nothing could have been better, much as Len appreciated the parts each of their friends and family had played, than being at Len’s favorite safe house that night _alone_ with Barry Allen for the first time truly with him.

“It’s 2015. You’re Leonard Snart. I’m Barry Allen,” Barry said, crawling along the sofa to corner Len in ways no one else would have dared or been nearly as welcome. “We’ve only known each other a few months but already I know I love you.”

He said it so easily. Len wasn’t quite there, but as time wore on, he knew he would be.

“The stars still singing and screaming?” he asked, allowing Barry to settle into his lap and stroke his thumb along Barry’s cheek.

“Yeah. But now I know how to focus on where I’m meant to be.”

“And what does the future look like, Mr. Allen?”

“You can look yourself,” he said, dipping down to press a kiss to Len’s lips.

Len returned the advantage to kiss Barry again. Then _again_ before he said, “On second thought, I’d rather be surprised.”

 

XXXXX

 

Timeless wasn’t something Barry ever wanted to be again.

The thing about Time was that it was best when anchored, with maybe only a touch of déjà vu and occasional premonitions. His life might be a broken mug that could never return to what it once was, but that was okay, because the way the cracks had been filled made it better than it might have been, brand new and glittering gold.

_Don't like the future, Flash? Change it!_

A dead or maybe trapped and haunted Leonard Snart had called to Barry in his Speed Force prison, and he had listened and returned to do just that.

Now, Len’s voice called to him from the next room or over the phone or from right beside him. Barry preferred that. He too liked that the future was unknown. Even if he hadn’t been able to save everyone, he’d done all he could. He’d tried. And he’d keep trying, every chance he had.

_Every hour, every minute…_

Barry smiled within each new kiss with Len and had no regrets about the adventure ahead of them or even just the promises of tonight.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!
> 
> I can't wait to return with more for you, but this one was special, and I hope to hear what you thought of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! 
> 
> And I am insane for taking on TWO chapter fics, but this one will take the backseat to Matchmaker because it's tough to write, but I will try to update regularly as best I can.


End file.
